Longbourn Math
by WadeH
Summary: Elizabeth Bennet, being more aware of her financial situation decides to give Mr. Collins due consideration in the Longbourn Proposal. This is an unusual work, with three stories in one. It's a one-shot, a short-story and a novel slightly larger than canon all in one. It mixes math, metaphors, and all sorts of craziness to come up with 3 HEAs. More than a bit off the beaten path.
1. Proposal

_A/N: Welcome back to my loyal readers and a hearty welcome to new ones!_

_Hey gang, glad to see you here. This story might demand a little more explanation than usual. _

_A couple of years ago, I published a little one-shot called Netherfield Math, that injected a bit of rationality into the whole courtship process. I've been kicking around another idea on the same theme for a while, so I wrote another one-shot, this time set during Mr. Collins' proposal._

_That was well received, and some people asked for a follow-on, so I obligingly let my early readers vote. I had a short version and a long version in mind, so I took votes. In the end, it was about a tie, so I decided to do both. I'm a software guy, and we're notorious for feature-creep._

_All went well, and the reviews were quite positive (much to my surprise). I honestly thought all the math would turn off just about everyone, but in the end, it did not. Now, several months later I have my longest, and most reviewed story ever. The long version was planned to be moderately long, but it ended up being really‑long because I kept coming up with side-stories that were essential to the story._

_Now, it's complete, so feel free to dive in. I think this story has maybe my favorite Hunsford Moment of all my stories, and I believe a quite unexpected bit of backstory._

_This is 3 stories in one – a short and silly one-shot, a longer and slightly less silly short story, and a full-length novel with some depth and breadth. You can read any or all of them._

_As always, I love to hear from people, good or bad, so enjoy the story._

_Wade_

* * *

_'Give a girl an education and introduce her properly to the world, and ten to one but she has the means of settling well.'_ Jane Austen

* * *

_[Mr. Collins] "My reasons for marrying are, first, … … … … … To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well aware that it could not be complied with; and that one thousand pounds in the four per cents, which will not be yours till after your mother's decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. On that head, therefore, I shall be uniformly silent; and you may assure yourself that no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married." _

_It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now._

_"You are too hasty, sir," she cried. "You forget that I have made no answer. Let me do it without further loss of time… …_

_P&P Chapter 19_

* * *

"Please sit down, Mr. Collins. This may take some time."

Looking quite perplexed, Mr. Collins shook his head a few times, moved towards a chair, looked confused, and stared back at Elizabeth.

"Pull the chair out, stand in front of it, and lean back. The procedure will all come to back you in time, Sir."

Not sure if he was being teased or ridiculed, William Collins fell back on basic instinct. He had been given clear direction, so absent a compelling reason to demur, he would comply. The delay in her acceptance of his very fine proposal was inevitable, but she apparently wanted to drag it out. With a huff, he sat down, just as Miss Elizabeth was getting up from her chair.

"A moment, if you please, Mr. Collins. I require supplies."

With that, the clergyman watched in surprise as Miss Elizabeth went over to a desk in the corner, and came back with parchment, ink and a quill. The lady then sat back in her original position on the other side of the table.

The young lady mended the pen quickly with a penknife she had brought along, uncapped the inkwell, dipped the quill, and then sat in contemplation for a moment, before speaking.

"You make a good point about fortune, Mr. Collins. My parents have left me very little, which is very much to my disadvantage. I shall endeavor to do better. So, that said, let us begin."

Collins shook his head again but had no idea what was happening.

"First things first, Mr. Collins. What, pray tell, is the income from your living?"

Mr. Collins puffed up his chest, leaned forward and said with some determination, "It is a very good living, Miss Elizabeth. It brings in £600 per annum."

Elizabeth nodded slightly, dipped the pen and wrote on the paper.

_Living £600_

Calmly the lady then asked, "I assume you take in income from the business of the parish – marrying and burying, christening, common licenses, that sort of thing – how much does that bring in?"

Collins asked, "To what do these questions pertain, Miss Elizabeth?"

Not to be deterred, she replied, "I will explain it in due time, if you could just answer the questions, please."

Scratching his head in complete perplexity, Collins said, "Well, I never thought about it. I supposed I may only get a pound some months and five others."

Elizabeth said, "Well, I suppose we will have to work with that the best we can. I am certain there are other things you might do but let us assume an average of say £3 per month, or £36 per annum. That seems to lack ambition, so let us assume we could bring it up to fifty with some effort, shall we."

While he shook his head, she bent back to the paper and added more.

_Living £600  
\+ M&B &etc. £50_

Satisfied, she said, "Now, let us see. Being new to your profession, you probably have not set up other sources of income, but they will come in time. I met a lady in Bath last year, a Miss Austen. Her father is a rector, and he secured extra income by tutoring boys. Surely you could do that as well, and any gently educated woman can probably do the same for girls if necessary. Miss Austen did not mention how much money her father brings in, but I should think £55 could be done. Let us assume that for the moment, absent better information.

_Living £600  
\+ M&B &etc. £50  
\+ Tutoring £55_

She said, "And of course, the wife of a clergyman should not be idle. I assume there are kitchen gardens, coops for poultry and the like. I should think that it would be as easy to raise twice what the family needs as not, so no doubt some additional income could come from that. It would not be considered crass or disrespectful. Miss Austen assured me that it is quite common. I have no idea about the figures, so let us say £35 per annum as a good starting place. It could probably be increased by hiring local women to do the work, or even taking in farm children for a time, but that is a good beginning."

_Living £600  
\+ M&B &etc. £50  
\+ Tutoring £55  
\+ Poultry £35_

Growing both alarmed and confused, Collins asked, "What are you doing, Miss Elizabeth? This is a simple question, with only two available answers. I do know how the game is played, though.

"Game, sir? I do not follow your line of reasoning. Marriage is a serious business, and I assure you, I am giving the matter its due attention."

"_I am not now to learn," replied Mr. Collins, with a formal wave of the hand, "that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second, or even a third time."_

Elizabeth stared at him, and said, "I have neither accepted, nor declined, Mr. Collins, but I can assure you that when I do, it will be done _rationally_, and _only once! _Now, may I finish this chore?"

Smiling at the woman's silliness, Collins said, _"I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,"_

Somewhat frustrated, Elizabeth continued, "Well then sir, how big is the glebe for the parsonage. You have asserted that Rosings is a very grand estate. I know glebes generally range from only an acre or two to over fifty. What do you have, Sir?"

"Rosings is not just any estate, Miss Elizabeth. Perhaps I have not sufficiently conveyed its grandeur, but I can assure you that you have never seen the like in your life. It is the finest estate in Kent, and one of the finest in England."

Not to be deterred, she said, "Yes, yes, Mr. Collins… but some fine estates have tiny glebes, and some have large. Please answer the question, Sir."

Shaking his head in confusion, Mr. Collins finally said, "Forty acres."

"Ah, so bigger than most but smaller than some. A fair size, I should say. What do you do with it? I cannot imagine you farm it yourself! I can tell at a glance that you do not do very much, if any, such labor."

Gasping in shock at the very idea, Mr. Collins said, "That is where I have my ornamental gardens and orchards. I can assure you it is quite a suitable garden, and Lady Catherine herself has commended it personally."

"Ornamental garden!", she asked in shock.

"Yes", he replied in confusion.

Shaking her head, the lady thought pensively, and said, "No, that will not do. Please wait a moment, Mr. Collins. I need a newspaper article I saw last week."

His draw dropping to the ground, Mr. Collins watched as Miss Bennet walked over to another desk, opened a drawer, rummaged through some papers for a minute, clearly looking for something."

"Aha, here it is!", she said in triumph.

She walked back to the table with a single cut‑out scrap of newsprint, and said, "Here it is! Just what I was looking for! It is fortunate I remembered it."

Becoming more confused by the moment, Collins watched the lady scan the article quickly, before placing her finger right in the middle, and saying, "**There**! It looks like about £1 6s per acre for farm rentals in that region, so you could rent it to a farmer. Then of course, the farmer would have to pay the tithe as well, so that would bring it up to, shall we estimate perhaps £1 10s. That is about £1½, so for forty acres you would have around £60 per annum. You could of course do better by hiring farmhands and managing the operation yourself, but let us, for the moment, assume the smaller number, just to be conservative.

_Living £600  
\+ M&B &etc. £50  
\+ Tutoring £50  
\+ Poultry £30  
\+ Farm Glebe 1.5 x 40 = £60_

Collins sputtered, "But… but… but…"

Not to be slowed down, Elizabeth ignored him and said, "Of course, there may be other economies to be had, but that is a good starting place for negotiations. That brings to around £800… a quite respectable figure", and then she bent to the parchment and wrote it down.

_Living £600  
\+ M&B &etc. £55  
\+ Tutoring £55  
\+ Poultry £35  
\+ Farm Glebe 1.5 x 40 = £60  
Income £800_

Elizabeth said, "That is probably sufficient for the immediate needs of this discussion on the income side, Sir. Let us see about costs. May I assume the parsonage itself is maintained by the estate as is customary?"

Completely in shock and unable to think coherently, Collins eventually nodded his head, and Elizabeth carried on.

"Good, good. Now, as to costs. I assume you have perhaps two maids of all work, a cook and one footman. They will require a salary of £20 and their upkeep of course. I believe we can account a total of £50 for each, so that makes for an outlay of £150-200 for household help. Let us be conservative and use the larger number. It would always be possible to economize later by doing more work yourself."

She bent back to her paper and made the appropriate markings.

_Living £600  
\+ M&B &etc. £55  
\+ Tutoring £55  
\+ Poultry £35  
\+ Farm Glebe 1.5 x 40 = £60  
Income £800_

_-Servants £200_

She looked back up, and said, "And of course, there must be a reasonable budget for occasional travel to visit relatives, apothecaries, clothing for children, and the like. I believe we must assume around £100 for those.

_Living £600  
\+ M&B &etc. £55  
\+ Tutoring £55  
\+ Poultry £35  
\+ Farm Glebe 1.5 x 40 = £60  
Income £800_

_\- Servants £200  
\- Expenses £100  
**Net =£500**_

Thoroughly confused and sputtering, Collins focused on the most objectionable part of the entire discussion… well, the most objectionable part he could comprehend anyway. The most objectionable of course was that a woman was performing arithmetic right in the middle of a marriage proposal. The second most objectionable was that said woman was apparently better at it than he was, as he could barely follow along. He did not feel up to tackling either of those, so he latched onto something he could object to.

"I cannot farm the glebe. It is within sight of Rosings. My patroness would not like it."

Scrunching her head in confusion, Elizabeth said, "Ah, I see… I missed that part, Mr. Collins. That changes the entire picture. You did not tell me that Lady Catherine was in trade."

Turning red and gasping for air, Collins yelled, "**Trade! Trade! Of course not!**"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Oh, my mistake, Mr. Collins. I assumed that no estate owner could possibly object to farming, since that is how her grandeur, which you have mentioned many times, is paid for. She must be surrounded by 500 acres or more of farmland that she rents, not to mention the home farm and kitchen garden. I cannot imagine such a lady objecting to forty more acres. It is a plot so small she would hardly even notice it, and even if she did have anything to say about what you do with church land, which she does not… well, I just cannot imagine it. Nay, Mr. Collins. It is a settled thing. Lady Catherine will have no objection to farming the glebe, I can assure you. If she does, do not concern yourself. Your wife shall educate the lady properly, and all shall be well."

Being the longest speech Mr. Collins had ever heard from the lady, he began to entertain doubts about the entire enterprise, but the offer had been made and the power of answer was within the lady's hands. He could feel a hand squeezing his heart and thought he might well swoon on the spot. The very idea of 'educating' Lady Catherine alone was enough to vex him completely.

Being unaware of his distress, the lady continued relentlessly.

"Now, you see where I am coming to, Mr. Collins. You know of course that my father is but five and forty, so according to the actuaries, he is quite likely to live twenty more years. Many things could happen in that time. For example, my mother might die, and father could take a wife young enough to bear an heir. No, sir! Any offspring of your union should only count on your living for their futures, not Longbourn."

Mr. Collins, who had thought himself practically a landed gentleman already, felt near to apoplexy, but the lady carried on relentlessly.

"No, Mr. Collins… I am quite certain you must agree. Any Collins children must be set about in the world, and to do that, some economies must be made, and some money must be set aside."

Gasping, Collins could only spit out, "but… but… but…"

Elizabeth just carried on, "You must agree, Mr. Collins, that a clergyman cannot just fritter his money away. You object to my portion but think on this. Let us assume that any children will come within a year or two, and most likely marry before they turn twenty. That would give but twenty years to accumulate a portion."

Elizabeth turned the paper around so the gentleman could see it, and said, "Do you agree the sums are correct, Sir?"

Collins was not sure of anything at all, but eventually looked the figures over, (he hated figures), and eventually nodded.

Elizabeth turned the page back, took up the quill and said, "Now, let us assume that we put the excess into the four percents. Let us see, I have the formula somewhere here."

Collins watched in confusion as the lady went back to the desk, rummaged around a bit, and said, "Aha!"

She came back, wrote some incomprehensible scribbling on a small piece of scrap parchment, and then amended her previous document.

"Let us assume we need around £100 for food, clothing and miscellaneous expenses. That might be more extensive travel, unexpected expenses like burying any children who might die, paying a curate during holidays, taking care of sick relatives, that sort of thing, so that leaves a net of £400."

_Living £600  
\+ M&B &etc. £55  
\+ Tutoring £55  
\+ Poultry £35  
\+ Farm Glebe 1.5 x 40 = £60  
Income £800_

_\- Servants £200  
\- Expenses £100  
**Net =£500  
**  
\- Misc. £100  
**Save £400 per annum**_

Once again, she turned the page around and said, "Does this seem reasonable?"

Thoroughly confused, the gentleman just nodded.

She continued, "Well, let us just say that goes into the four percents, and continued writing.

_Living £600  
\+ M&B &etc. £55  
\+ Tutoring £55  
\+ Poultry £35  
\+ Farm Glebe 1.5 x 40 = £60  
Income £800_

_\- Servants £200  
\- Expenses £100  
**Net =£500  
**  
\- Misc. £100  
**Save £400 per annum**_

_**£400 per annum over 20 years at 4% = £12,000**_

She sighed in satisfaction, and said, "Well, that is not the best, but it is not bad either. It would have to do. Now, as I can see that you are not a man of finance, Mr. Collins, I suggest the best way would be to just set your wife's pin money at £500 per annum. That is the only way with the pesky English laws to give her control over it, and it is essential that your modest income be handled properly. So, what say you, Mr. Collins. _Are you in fact offering £500 per annum as part of this proposal?"_

Sweating profusely, Mr. Collins pulled out his handkerchief, wiped his brow several times, and started, stopped, and looked for an escape from the madhouse he had set himself up for. He searched diligently, far and low, high and wide for an escape, and finally was hit by the obvious answer, as if handed down directly from the heavens.

"No, Miss Elizabeth. I will not set pin money at £500. It will not do!"

Feeling as if he had just won an epic battle worthy of a Viking, he wondered if he actually had to wait for Miss Elizabeth to officially decline his proposal before he escaped that madhouse.

The lady seemed less effected than he expected, but perhaps she just hid her trepidation better, since her 'offer' had of course been summarily rejected… he thought. There could be no two opinions on the subject.

Elizabeth said, "Oh, dear… Well then… Let me think. My figures are all correct, so it seems that you need… hmmm… let me see… **Oh, I know!**"

Mr. Collins looked at her in consternation, and timidly asked, "You know… err… What exactly?"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "It is all so obvious, Mr. Collins. You need a wife who is willing to be more sensible. She must be more frugal than I am willing to be. She will want to limit your children to a small number, which is sensible for many women, but not for me. She will need to be willing to do with somewhat less. Now of course, she also must be gently bred and trained in the management of an estate, since she will most likely eventually be mistress of Longbourn. Give me a moment to think, Mr. Collins, if you please, Sir."

Collins stared at her in shock, as the lady sat in a fairly unladylike pose, elbows on the table, pen still in one hand, while she scrunched her face in concentration, and tapped her teeth with the index finger of her other hand.

After some moments spent in this matter, she yelled, "**Aha! I have it!**", while slapping her hand on the table, which made him practically jump out of his skin.

Much to Mr. Collins's consternation, the lady jumped up from the table, ran over to the parlor door, and yanked it open.

Somewhat to his embarrassment, he saw Mrs. Bennet and the two youngest daughters fall through the door and nearly collapse to the floor, but Miss Elizabeth barely noticed them. She walked deftly around them to find her sister Mary, took her arm, dragged her back into the breakfast parlor, shooed her mother and youngest sisters back out the door, and slammed it closed.

She dragged her younger sister over to the table, pushed her into the chair, and said, "Mary, are you willing to be Mrs. Collins for £400 per annum. Look at these figures. You would need to limit your children to a manageable brood, say no more than three, but I never thought you wanted very many anyway. Mr. Collins is a bit silly, but he is not vicious, and he is respectable. He has a good living, and an active patroness. What do you think?"

Mary looked at the figures for but a few moments, and said, "These figures are fine, Elizabeth. I actually quite like our cousin, and I should be happy to be his bride under these conditions."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "**There! Problem Solved!**"

She quickly took the parchment and added a few more lines.

_Living £600  
\+ M&B &etc. £55  
\+ Tutoring £55  
\+ Poultry £35  
\+ Farm Glebe 1.5 x 40 = £60  
Income £800_

_\- Servants £200  
\- Expenses £100  
**Net =£500  
**  
\- Misc. £100  
**Save £400 per annum**_

_**£400 per annum over 20 years at 4% = £12,000**_

_**Pin Money: £400**_

**_Mary Bennet __**

**_William Collins __**

Elizabeth quickly slid the parchment in front of Mary, and said, "Initial here, Mary. I know our signatures count for nothing legally but let us at least acknowledge the agreement."

With a smile that actually, much to his surprise, lit up William Collins' heart, Mary initialed the appropriate place.

Elizabeth smiled at Mr. Collins, and said, "Well, Mr. Collins. If I recall correctly, you offered your hand in marriage to 'Miss Bennet'. Well, Miss Bennet shall you have. It is fortunate for all involved that you were not more specific, as there is no need for any unpleasantness involved rejected proposals, transferring affections from one sister to the next, that sort of thing. You have offered your hand in marriage to Miss Bennet, and Miss Bennet has accepted it. Sign here, if you will, Mr. Collins, and then I believe you should be off to see my father."

Shaking his head in befuddlement, Mr. Collins looked at Mary and said, "Miss Mary, I cannot say whether I have been hoodwinked or enlightened. I have only one question. Are you happy with your sister's machinations?"

"Quite happy, Mr. Collins. I am much more suited to be a parson's wife than Lizzy. We honor you for doing things correctly. It was right and proper that you first seek the eldest available daughter, and nobody could fault you for that. However, I believe myself to be better suited to the task, and my elder sister does not seem inclined to take offense. You have acted honorably, Sir, and I shall enjoy being your wife."

Elizabeth noticed that Mr. Collins looked somewhat less unappealing to her when he gave a genuine smile than the false one that he generally used. She hoped a bit of instruction from Mary would make something sensible out of him. Even regular bathing and instruction in table manners would be an improvement.

Elizabeth said, "Well then, just to follow the forms, perhaps you might like to ask the question again, _unambiguously_ and _privately_, receive the answer and any displays of violent affection you deem appropriate to the moment, and _then_ go to my father."

With a smile and a laugh, she bowed to Mr. Collins, kissed Mary on the cheek, snatched the parchment off the table for safekeeping, and went out to share the happy news with the rest of her family.

~~ Finis (maybe) ~~

* * *

_A/N: This was written as a one‑shot, but I got enough demand for a Chapter 2 that I decided to indulge you. Wade_


	2. Contract

_A/N: Wow! Wow! Wow! Much to my surprise, I got the best one‑day response to a one shot __ever__. In fact, after 2 days it's catching up with some of my one‑shots from 2 years ago in total review count, so I guess some of you liked it. [end shameless bragging – or at least a temporary pause]_

_The response surprised me, but I don't know why, since reactions to my writing frequently surprise me. Maybe I should give up all pretense of predicting, since I seem to be as bad at the sport as Elizabeth. _

_Most of you want a Chapter 2, and I was planning to oblige you… but then, well, I came up with a Chapter 3, so now I had to decide whether to do 2 or 3 (not to mention a 4 that occurred to me a couple days later). It turned out my new Chapter 2 was too much fun to pass up, so here it is, BUT as an added extra bonus, I'm going to try something totally new and different. Check the A/N at the end and let's see if it's fun or not._

_A few reviewers asked for other math snippets. You all know by now that I'm a software geek, so I thought I'd mention that I do math themes pretty regularly (even though 99% of my software is about text and not numbers)._

_For the economics of living in the hedgerows, see  
Chapter 14 (_Life in the Hedgerows)_ of __The Cliffs of Hertfordshire__._

_To find out how fast or how cheap you could cover long distances by coach or horse, see  
Chapter 35-38 of __The Cliffs of Hertfordshire_

_For the economics of marriage to an officer, see  
Chapter 9 (On Foot) of __The Propriety Failure__._

_Elizabeth calculates longevity, cost of living and risk of childbirth in  
Chapters 2, 8, and 10 of __The Fee Entail__._

_If odds and wagering are your thing (or just total absurdity) see  
__Elizabeth Bennets' Wager__._

_Not a lot of numbers, but a few simple mathematical concepts in  
__Common Sense and Simple Arithmetic__._

_And of course, if percentages are your thing, there is the original that started this  
__Netherfield Math__._

_Wade_

* * *

Mary Bennet and her betrothed left the breakfast room, to the sounds of what could only be described as excessive exuberance, but nobody could fault them for it. Mrs. Bennet went on for quite some time about having a daughter well married, although Elizabeth was never quite certain that her mother actually understood that it was _Mary_ who was to be mistress of Longbourn.

The commotion eventually settled down, with Mary, Elizabeth and Mr. Collins all wearing self‑satisfied smiles at the joy of a simple plan coming together in the manner that it should. Eventually, Mr. Collins took Elizabeth's suggestion that he should go off to speak to Mr. Bennet for permissions, blessings, sarcastic teasing, &etc.

Mary approached Elizabeth and spoke with a soft smile.

"Lizzy, what say you to walking into Meryton to speak to Uncle Phillips about the marriage contract. We should bring him back and have things fully settled as soon as possible. You know Papa – he would would wait a fortnight to get it done, and then do a poor job of it in the process. If we sneak out, it will give us a chance to speak in private, and to tell Uncle Phillips what the settlements _should_ say. Papa and Mr. Collins will sign whatever is put in front of them, so let us make sure what is placed in front of them is correct. That will allow the gentlemen the illusion of control, while making certain things are done properly."

Elizabeth smiled in return, and said, "Of course, Mary. I very much wanted to speak to you privately as well."

Elizabeth smiled at Jane, who was still mostly insensible due to the rapture she was anticipating when Mr. Bingley returned in a few days' time as he had promised. The gentleman had danced the first and supper sets with the lady, then dined with her and showered her with attention the rest of the night. Nothing had been decided, but Elizabeth had never seen a more promising inclination.

Kitty and Lydia were already giggling with Mrs. Bennet, and planning the details of the boasting campaign that they would start as soon as the official blessings had been given. A reasonable person would think that a newly betrothed bride‑to‑be might stay in the house to converse more with her suitor or her father; but then again, a reasonable person would not be inclined to spend a lot of time in the Bennet household. Nobody noticed as Elizabeth and Mary quietly slipped away from the maddening throng, to put on their outerwear for the one‑mile walk into Meryton.

* * *

The day was bright and cold, as was to be expected in late November. The roads were still muddy and somewhat uncertain after the four days of unrelenting rain that had preceded the Netherfield ball of the previous evening, but neither of the sisters were to be intimidated by a little mud.

Mary began, "Thank you, Lizzy. That was brilliantly done."

Elizabeth laughed, and replied, "What do you mean, Mary? The whole thing was your idea in the first place!"

"Well, yes, but I thought we would have at least another week to redirect Mr. Collins in the proper direction with a bit more subtlety. I had no idea he would act so precipitously."

Elizabeth sighed.

"Neither did I, unfortunately. I was thoroughly unprepared, and frankly, a bit terrified. You should have seen it, Mary! I was in a right panic the entire time. I just started making things up. It would never do to _decline _an eligible man just because you did not care for his personality. It would crush his spirit, and there would have been no chance to guide him in a more amenable direction. No – declining such an eligible proposal would never do, particularly considering how 'precarious' our position is. I did not want to spend my life with the man as you do, but I did not wish to be cruel to him either. I do not think I could ever do that to any man."

"Well, it was brilliantly done, Lizzy. Even if it was all bluster and panic, it did what we needed. I could not have managed it."

Elizabeth reached up to caress her sister's cheek, and said, "Perhaps not, Mary, but you would have come up with _something_. I am just glad you told me your inclinations beforehand, else I would have declined his proposal, and you can imagine how well that would have gone."

Mary frowned at the very idea, and they walked along in silence for a few more minutes.

Elizabeth said, "You seem quite certain this is what you want, Mary, but if I am not being too intrusive…"

"You could never be too intrusive, Lizzy."

Elizabeth smiled, but said, "Perhaps… but at any rate, what lead you to desire this union?"

Mary snorted, and said, "It was simple enough, Lizzy. I am not obsessed with love and affection like you and Jane are… and let us be honest, you and Jane have _some_ slim hope of success, but even if I did want it, what chance would I have in your shadows."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I do wish you would listen to Mother less, Mary. You are as lovely as Jane or I."

Mary sighed, and said, "Well, Sister, I am going to put fifty miles of good road between myself and her, so I daresay that should reduce her chances to snipe at me considerably."

The sisters laughed gaily, though they could just as easily have considered the statement gallows humor should they have been inclined in that direction.

Mary said, "Think about it, Lizzy. I was always been torn between the desire to be a clergyman's wife and the desire to be mistress of a humble estate. With you and Jane ahead of me in both age and beauty – do not trifle with me by denying it – I thought it quite unlikely I could do either. With no dowries or skills to recommend us, and let us just say, not a single man worth marrying within twenty miles, I thought my chances quite slim. Wife of a clerk was the best I was likely to get."

Mary stared off into space, remembering her past despair, but then brightened up and continued.

"Just think. In one day, both of my dreams went from impossible to actualized. I get to do both and all I need do is live with a man who is about the middle of the pack in terms of sensibleness. He is no sillier than Sir William, no lazier than Papa, no more pompous than Mr. Goulding, no more verbose than Mama, and has manners no worse than Lydia. Yes, I am quite satisfied, Lizzy."

Elizabeth laughed, and added, "Plus there is the added advantage of longevity. I would probably have killed him within a year over some offense you would not even notice, and then where would the entail go."

Both sisters laughed for some yards with that exchange, and Elizabeth finally put her last doubts about the match behind her. Mary knew what she wanted, and that was good enough for Lizzy.

* * *

After another few minutes, Mary said, "How did you know about all those figures, Lizzy. I know Papa did not teach you, since he can barely be bothered to keep his account books."

Elizabeth laughed a bit and said, "Did you know Uncle Gardiner occasionally takes a bit too much of the drink, and when he does, he curses like a sailor, and rails at our parents like a madman?"

Mary gasped, as if she could not even conceive of such an idea, and asked, "But why?"

Elizabeth signed and said, "When he is in his cups, he mostly curses their indolence and lack of care for their offspring. He is afraid he may end up responsible for us, as if he did not have enough with his own offspring. He has been trying to make our parents see the light for years, with nothing to show for it."

"What do you mean?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "He taught me some things about saving. One thing he mentioned is called _compound interest_. _It is magical._ If you put money in an investment, like the four percents, and just _leave it there_, it grows faster and faster. Over time, the results are astonishing."

Mary quirked an eyebrow, and Elizabeth said, "Suppose you put £100 in the four percents. The first year, you would earn £4. That is just multiplication, correct?"

"Yes"

"If you just _leave it there_, the next year you would earn 4% on £104. You would get, let's see, roughly £4 3s. Then you _leave that_, and the next year you are making the interest on £108 3s. It just grows and grows, and the longer you leave it, the faster it grows. Look at this."

Elizabeth pulled out the paper she had done with Mr. Collins, and said, "It is important for you to understand this, Mary. Look here. I assumed you would save £400 per annum. Now you may or may not be able to make that work. I was trying to stretch the number to the limit, but the principle is the same even with a smaller amount."

She pointed to the relevant line on the parchment.

**_£400 per annum over 20 years at 4% = £12,000_**

During these twenty years, you only _contributed £800_. That is simple multiplication. However, you _earned £4,000_ for doing nothing but letting the crown use your money. Think of it, Mary. For your tiny little parsonage, saving a large but manageable amount, and you would earn as much as Longbourn's income for two years… all for doing nothing but being prudent.

Mary stared at the numbers for several yards, and finally asked, "What about with say, 25 years, Lizzy. Can you do it in your head?"

Elizabeth laughed, and pulled out a pencil and turned the parchment over. She said, "Here is the formula."

**_Payment x (((1 + r) _ⁿ_) – 1)  
__r_**

Elizabeth pointed at the formula, and said, "'r' is the interest rate as a decimal, so 4% is .04. 'n' is the number of years. Parenthesis group things so you just start in the center and work your way out."

Mary nodded, and Elizabeth continued.

"It is difficult to do the exponent without a log table or slide rule, but I can easily just add five more years using brute force. I can just calculate the interest each year using multiplication and do a running total. It is not very elegant, but I can do it right here."

Elizabeth stopped near a fallen log, used it as a table, did the calculations quickly, and answered, "Around _£16,500_"

Mary just stared at the numbers in consternation and made the obvious conclusion.

"So, let us say I had very bad luck, and bore five daughters, whilst my indolent father blundered along for another 25 years, which would put me in the exact position our parents are in. You are saying that I could have a £3,000 dowry for each of my daughters _on a clergyman's living_."

Elizabeth nodded sympathetically, "Hence, Uncle Gardiner's ranting. It gets even worse."

Mary's eyebrows both shot up to her hairline, and asked, "Worse than the fact that our father, who graduated from Cambridge with honors, with an income of £2,000, _could not match the savings of a clergyman with £600 being advised by a twenty‑year‑old woman?_"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Yes, that is bad enough but consider this. You know that Mama has a £5,000 jointure?"

Mary said, "Yes, I heard that. She constantly grumbles that she will starve in the hedgerows if that is all she has to live on, as if it was not her fault that was all there was."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, remember the lesson in compound interest. It is calculated with a simple formula, although it is, again, difficult to do without a log table or a slide rule. I lucked out when I was talking to Mr. Collins, as I had a book of log tables in the parlor purely by chance."

Elizabeth updated the parchment with the formula on the back.

**_P (1+r) _ⁿ**

"'P' is the 'principle', £5,000 in this case. It is easy to do with the right tools, but difficult to do by hand. Fortunately, I already did it the day after Uncle Gardiner's last tirade, so I happen to know the answer."

Elizabeth sighed, and continued.

"For the last 25 years, Mama has drawn off the _£200 per annum_ of interest and spent it on entertainment and fripperies. First, she can live perfectly well on £200 so there will be no hedgerows anyway, even if she had saved _nothing_. She would live in a home like Aunt Philips', so most of her whining is overwrought nonsense."

Elizabeth paused for Mary to acknowledge what was just common sense and simple arithmetic.

She then continued, "Even worse, had Mama simply _refrained from wasting that interest on things we did not need, and could be well afforded by the estate anyway_, she would have over _£13,000_ now. There is a thing called the 'rule of 72'. Divide 72 by the percent interest, and that is how many years it takes to double. In the four percents, your money doubles every 18 years. Had she left it alone, she would have _£400 per annum_ to live on, perfectly enough to live much like she does now, except for lack of a carriage, and inability to entertain often or extravagantly. She could also have just redirected the £200 to Uncle Gardiner, and he would have made an even higher return on it. £15,000 or more was well within her reach, with no effort whatsoever."

Mary just shook her head in consternation, and said, "So, our disadvantageous position in the marriage market is due entirely to indolence?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Do not even start me on newer farming methods that could have raised our income with hardly any effort on our part, or the almost miniscule amount that would have been required for a governess and a few masters. A governess makes a salary of £30-40 along with room and board. All told, far less than £60 per annum. The interest on Mama's portion alone would pay for both with well over £100 to spare. And please, please, please make not the slightest mention of the minimal effort that would be required to make Kitty and Lydia more like ladies and less like savages."

Mary shook her head in consternation, and they walked on for a few moments.

Finally, Mary said, "Lizzy, once I am married, you must come visit me. I will need your help to make sure all is as it should be. Perhaps you could come at Easter?"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "You really expect me to wait until Easter to experience the great condescension of the noble Lady Catherine de Bourgh?"

Mary laughed, and said, "You need to give me a couple months to begin her education. I will expect your help after that. Lady Catherine will not be running my household, but I expect a few contests of wills before that fact sinks in."

Elizabeth sported an evil grin, and said, "I can hardly wait."

* * *

The sisters continued along, arm in arm, chatting happily about the future, such the near certainty that Lady Catherine would be almost identical to their mother. Mary expected to feel right at home at Rosings.

They joined the road into Meryton and were walking carefully between puddles when they heard the crack of a whip, and then the noise of a carriage coming along the road at much too fast of a pace.

Thinking quickly, Elizabeth grabbed Mary's arm and they barely managed to jump to a path beside the road, before a carriage came around a corner and went barreling by with the horses nearly at a run. The driver paid them not the slightest attention, if he even saw them. Both the front and rear wheels went through a puddle, that left both ladies covered in mud from bonnets to boots, as the carriage rumbled down the road towards London.

o

o

o

* * *

_A/N: So, here's the fun part. I have 2 different Chapter 3's in mind. One is short and sweet and resolves everything quickly. The other is a few chapters longer and would extend the story for several months (and some more math). You get to decide - __Short__ or __Long__ for the rest of the story._

_Wade_


	3. Whoooaaahhh – Short

_A/N: The votes are in for the first hundred or so, and the response is Long 66% (73), Short 19% (21) and Both 13% (15). Guess that argues for Long, but I am going to give you both, since it will take me some time to work out just what long is. I have no idea how long the long version will be, mainly because I don't have the slightest idea how it will end. Guess that's what I get for giving you choices. I'll start by writing the part I do know and see what happens, but for the moment, you can content yourself with short, which is going to be 2-3 more chapters. Wade_

* * *

_Alternate Ending 1 – Short(ish)_

* * *

Mary and Elizabeth spent several minutes doing their best to at least clean their faces somewhat, with a focus on keeping mud out of their eyes and mouths, using nothing but their handkerchiefs and wraps. The wraps were _already_ drenched in mud on the front, but the back was clean enough to use as a towel.

The mud was of a different kind than they were accustomed to, since not a single coachman in Hertfordshire would operate so carelessly… or at least, he would not do so twice. They got a double dose. First the wheel went through a large puddle at high speed, which drenched them with muddy water. Simultaneously, the front wheel threw up some actual mud, complete with small pebbles directly into their face, while the back wheel through some over the tops of their heads. The only way they could have been any more disagreeably muddy is if the horses had run them down and stamped them into the mud itself; which was in fact a distinct possibility the way the coach was being operated.

When they could speak again without coating their insides to match their outsides, Mary said, "Lizzy, did you see inside that coach?"

"I fear not, Mary."

Mary sighed, and said, "Well, there are two things of note. I only had a moment to see, but that was sufficient."

"Carry on."

"The first is that the coach had _Miss Bingley_, and the Hursts. I would conjecture they decided to escape this savage society the moment their brother turned his back on them for five minutes."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Yes, Mary. That would seem a reasonable interpretation of the available evidence."

"Well, the second thing is even more disturbing. Miss Bingley was smiling and just starting to laugh when I had to close my eyes. She was looking straight at us and **laughing**!"

Elizabeth sputtered, and said, "Well, I never… well… I knew she was a disagreeable hoyden, but this… this… this…"

They both found themselves paralyzed by propriety. They had to balance the conflicting pressures to say what they really thought of the Bingley sisters, against the long‑ingrained habit of acting like ladies who did _not_ say such things under any conditions. They were both in the confusing process of trying to work out the appropriate response, when the issue was solved in favor of silence by a loud call that superseded all speech.

"**Whoooaaahhh, there!**"

The ladies looked up from their labors to see a coach approaching at a _much_ more reasonable pace. That coachman was apparently either less malevolent, more careful, more observant, more sensible or just more professional, all around. Elizabeth guessed the latter description was a superset of the first three, and since she had no evidence to negate the first three, she would accept it as an acceptable working theory. There… she had said it. This particular coach had a very professional coachman, based on the rigorous precepts of set theory.

Since this new coach was approaching at a careful walk, there was no danger of a repeat of the previous incident, especially since she could see the coachman watching most carefully and maneuvering the horses around the puddles.

A minute or two more brought the coach to a stop, and Elizabeth was somewhat surprised that she could not see anybody at all through the window. The footman jumped down from the back and opened the door, which resolved the mystery.

Looking in the door, both ladies saw none other than Mr. Darcy. He had a travel rug laying on the floor still covering his boots, where it had obviously just dropped off his lap, and he was on his knees opening a compartment under the facing seat. He quickly reached into the compartment to get another rug, then grabbed both and jumped out of the door before the poor footman even had a chance to put the step down. He landed in the mud, but fortunately, he missed the puddle by a foot so he did not splash them all over again; which would not have been well received in their present moods.

Elizabeth did not even know that the gentleman had his coach at Netherfield, but in the few seconds it took him to complete his exit she had plenty of time to think that simple deduction could easily posit its presence, given the known evidence. Mr. Darcy was at Netherfield. Caroline Bingley was at Netherfield. Any sensible man would want to be able to separate those two facts with little warning, therefore any reasonable man sharing a house with Miss Bingley would keep a carriage, a curricle, a set of fast horses, a backup horse, and a spare. It was only common sense with a dash of deductive reasoning.

While Elizabeth was pondering all of this, Mr. Darcy gave a slight bow, and said, "Miss Elizabeth. Miss Mary."

Without waiting for acknowledgement, and without another word, he handed one rug to the footman, walked around behind Lizzy, and placed the rug over her shoulders. The footman did the same thing a few seconds later for Mary.

"I hope these help a little bit, ladies. Feel free to muddy them as much as necessary."

Elizabeth was a bit perplexed by the offer, but nonetheless, she wrapped the rug tighter around her, which warmed her considerably, and said, "Thank you, Mr. Darcy", which she had to admit was probably the nicest thing she had ever said to him.

Darcy said, "Thomas, if I am not mistaken, there is a stream about thirty yards that way", pointing behind the ladies.

"Right, Sir", replied the footman, apparently named 'Thomas'. Then he walked behind the coach, reached down to some sort of compartment below his perch, pulled out a lacquered bucket, and took off towards the stream at a run.

Elizabeth, purely by reflex, yelled at his retreating back, "Please slow down, young man. There is a very slippery patch before you arrive, and it would not help matters if Mary and I have to drag you out of the stream."

Much to her surprise, the footman let out a big laugh, and said, "Right you are, Miss Elizabeth", before slowing down to a more reasonable trot.

Mr. Darcy had meanwhile turned around to rummage around in the hidden compartment in the coach for a few more minutes, pulled out a few small towels, and handed them to the ladies.

Elizabeth noticed that the coachman had set the brake carefully, tied off the reins, and hopped down to stand in front of Mr. Darcy.

She was surprised when the coachman asked, "Ladies, if I am not being impertinent, might you tell me if it was the Bingley coach that put you into his state?"

Being completely surprised by the question, they both stared for a moment, and then Mary just nodded.

The coachman sighed, and said to Mr. Darcy, "I shall see to it, Sir."

Darcy just said, "Thank you, Smithers", before returning his attention to the ladies.

Elizabeth's curiosity overrode her common sense, and said, "If I may be so bold as to ask, Mr. Smithers, what will 'seeing to it' mean?"

The coachman looked at her, and said, "I would prefer not to say, Miss."

"And yet, you are to take some action based on our testimony. I would prefer to know what it is, if you do not mind."

Darcy said, "Would you prefer I answer?"

"No, Sir. Mr. Smithers is quite capable of speaking for himself."

The coachman nodded, and said, "We have a code of conduct in our profession, young Misses. Mr. Darcy has mentioned you are very well educated, Miss Elizabeth. Do you wish details or just the broad picture?"

Elizabeth really liked this Mr. Smithers, so she smiled at him, and said, "Both Mary and I are well educated and less flighty than some. You have aroused my curiosity, Sir."

Smithers nodded, walked over to a half‑dozen paces in front of the ladies, and said, "Well then, if you would please look at these tracks."

He pointed down to a set of muddy footprints made by the ladies, and said, "Based on the spacing between paces, and a few other clues, I may surmise that Miss Mary was being bodily dragged out of the way by Miss Elizabeth, at just about the fastest pace you could manage."

Somewhat surprised, both ladies nodded.

Smithers pointed to the horse prints still visible in the mud, and said, "From the spacing and pattern of those hoofmarks, I can surmise that the coach was going _entirely_ too fast for this road. The Bingley coachman could just as easily have killed you if you had not been so quick thinking. I see on evidence of him trying to stop…"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Simple logic would suggest that evidence would be in the form of the Bingley coach sitting stopped a few dozen yards from us."

Smithers chuckled, and said, "Yes, but even if he slowed down, decided you were fine, and then continued on, I could tell from these tracks. He did not slow a jot."

Mary said, "I imagine you can tell more than that, Mr. Smithers?"

"Yes, ma'am. I can. I shall not bore you with the details, but that man is a disgrace to his profession."

Mary carefully asked, "So what exactly does 'see to it' mean?"

Smithers looked at Darcy, who nodded, then said, "I shall see to it that he either becomes _less_ of a disgrace or leaves a profession he is not qualified for."

Elizabeth and Mary gasped, but Smithers continued.

"Do not feel that any of this is on your heads, ladies. The best way for you to think of it is that you have given me something that may prevent him from hurting _someone else_. It is for their sakes that I will undertake his education."

Elizabeth said, "Education… a… curiously ambiguous word, Mr. Smithers."

He just chuckled, and said, "Take my word for it. There will be lessons, and you would probably rather not know too many details of them. I was a young hothead once and had to take my own lessons. The cuts and bruises heal in a month, but hopefully the lesson lasts a lifetime."

The ladies decided they did not need to know any more about that business, just in time for Thomas to return with the bucket filled with water.

Elizabeth and Mary gratefully accepted it, and all three men politely went around to the other side of the coach and stood facing the other way while the ladies did their best to clean off some of the mud and grime.

A few minutes later, they were both as presentable as they were going to get, so Mary said, "You may return, Gentlemen."

All three men came back, and Mr. Darcy said, "Is there anything more I can do for your comfort, Ladies. I will of course take you to wherever you need to go. I presume you were going to Meryton, but it seems more likely you would wish to return to Longbourn. You can both ride in the carriage, and I will ride up with Smithers so there will be no impropriety.

Elizabeth said, "Mr. Darcy, you know full well neither Mary nor I are intimidated by a bit of mud. We thank you for your help, but we are perfectly capable of walking either way."

Elizabeth thought that would be the end of it, but Mr. Darcy continued, "Please, Miss Elizabeth. I know you are both well capable of going wherever you need to go, but I would consider it a privilege to assist you in whatever way I can. If not a privilege, would you please at least allow my _pride to stay under good regulation_, by acting as a gentleman should."

Elizabeth giggled, and Mary wondered what pride being under good regulation had to do with anything, when they heard it again, but not quite so loud this time.

_"Whoooaaahhh, there!"_

She looked in surprise and saw two wagons pulling up behind the Darcy coach. Both wagons were heavily loaded with trunks, and even some furniture.

It took but a moment to put two and two together and get a very disagreeable four. The Netherfield party was running out like a thief in the night, less than twelve hours after the end of the Netherfield ball.


	4. Philosophy

Elizabeth and Mary just stared at the luggage wagons, in consternation. There were very few possible explanations for what they were seeing, with the most obvious being the most likely.

Mary finally asked, "You are leaving, Mr. Darcy?"

The gentleman had at least enough sense to look chagrinned, and said, "Yes, Miss Mary."

Elizabeth looked carefully at the two wagons, and added, "I imagine the first wagon is yours, and the second is the rest of the Bingley clothing and furniture?"

Darcy just nodded.

Elizabeth sighed again, and said, "Mr. Darcy, I presume you are familiar with Occam's razor?"

Darcy said, "With competing hypotheses, the simplest solution is most likely the right one."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "Let us apply some deductive reasoning. With that many trunks in those wagons, and the departure of Mr. Bingley's hostess, it seems likely Miss Bingley has closed up the house. We will know for certain within the hour if that is true or not. Our Aunt will be aware of the gossip. Should I assume Netherfield is in fact closed up?"

Darcy blushed in embarrassment, and said, "Yes."

Lizzy relentlessly continued, "Based on those known facts, my prevailing theory is that Mr. Bingley is not likely to return in a few days as he claimed; unless of course he wishes to stay at the Meryton Inn while his leased estate remains vacant two miles away. Am I incorrect, Sir?"

Darcy said, "I do not know, Miss Elizabeth. Miss Bingley closed up the house and left, as you surmised."

"Yes, I imagine she is on her way to Town to try to convince Mr. Bingley of the egregious unsuitability of _my sister_, whom your friend has been courting assiduously for six weeks."

Both ladies were watching the gentleman carefully and did not much like the way he flinched and looked away.

Mary quietly asked, "Perhaps, I might speculate that Miss Bingley is not _alone_ in her quest."

Mr. Darcy looked very uncomfortable, but at least had the grace not to lie about it. He was trying furiously to think of something to say, with nothing coming to mind. He was just working his way up to saying something to try to keep the conversation going, when Mary cleared her throat.

Mary looked at him pityingly for a moment, then turned to Elizabeth and asked, "'G' or 'P', Lizzy?"

Elizabeth said, "Oh, most definitely, 'G'."

Without another word, both ladies took the travel rugs from around their shoulders and handed them to Thomas, the astonished looking footman.

They curtsied in unison, and said, "A pleasure meeting you Thomas, Mr. Smithers. Goodbye, Mr. Darcy."

Then they both turned and continued walking towards Meryton.

Somewhat shocked by the dismissal, Mr. Darcy shouted, "**Wait**!"

The ladies paused momentarily, but did not turn around to face him, and Mary said, "Yes."

Darcy had never had any ladies _so completely dismiss him_, and he was at a bit of a loss to explain it, or even know how to react. He covered the distance to at least get himself in front of them, and asked, "May I at least offer to take you where you need to go?"

Elizabeth said, "No, Sir. That is not necessary. We are sorry to have delayed you. Have a good life, Sir."

Then they both started walking arm in arm again.

Forgetting decorum entirely Darcy continued after them and scrambled for something to say. He was rattled enough that he did not have the vaguest idea what to ask, so he finally blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"What are 'G' and 'P'?"

The ladies paused momentarily and stared at him with what could only be considered a bit of derision and condescension. They stared at him for quite some time, until finally, after he started squirming, Elizabeth tired of the game and decided to answer.

"Mr. Darcy, Mary and I are what your sex likes to call bluestockings. We spent much of this morning discussing mathematics."

Completely flummoxed by the change in topic, Darcy asked, "Mathematics?"

Mary sighed, and said, "Yes, Mr. Darcy… Mathematics. You see, I am newly engaged to Mr. Collins, as of about two hours ago. The poor man was confused enough that he actually tried to propose to Lizzy first, but she managed to turn him in the proper direction through some judicious use of mathematics and a bit of philosophy. _That_ is what we were discussing on the walk this morning. We are also students of philosophy, so 'G' and 'P' are shorthand signals for two particular schools of thought. Elizabeth and I discussed how to deal with the defection of the Netherfield party with just that sentence. Is that sufficient for your needs, Sir? We are still cold and wet, and my betrothed is expecting us back soon, so we do not have all day."

Darcy was simply staring at the pair in horror. The very idea of Miss Elizabeth wedding Mr. Collins made him feel like a giant was squeezing his chest and pounding on his head. The fact that she had narrowly escaped that fate did not make him feel any better at all.

Finally, in desperation, he blurted out, "Congratulations, Miss Mary. I presume this is something you desired?"

The impropriety of the question raised both ladies' eyebrows, but life at Longbourn had long inured them to surviving in environments that were slightly less than decorous, so Mary answered.

"Yes, Sir. Lizzy and I were trying to guide him gently in the proper direction, but he got ahead of us. Lizzy had to think quickly to prevent things from going asunder. He is just the type of man I want. He is your aunt's rector so he has a good living, and he is our father's heir, so I will eventually be mistress of Longbourn. I have a very different idea of marriage than my elder sisters do. Good day, Sir."

Before they could walk off again, Darcy desperately asked, "How so, Miss Mary?"

Sighing in exasperation, Mary looked at Elizabeth, who just shrugged her shoulders in frustrated resignation, with a grimace on her face.

Mary said, "Very well, Sir, but I will ask you and your staff not to gossip."

She stared at him until he nodded, then turned to Thomas, who had walked up beside them, and found him was already bobbing his head and touching his cap.

Mary continued, "My elder sisters swore a vow to only marry for the _deepest_ of affection to men they respect and admire, which frankly sounds quite unlikely. I on the other hand do not hold much store by those ideas, and I look for other qualities. Mr. Collins would be the worst husband in the world for either of my elder sisters, but he is just right for me. Everyone is happy with the arrangement. All is as it should be."

Thomas said, "I hate to interrupt, but if you wish to talk longer, would you allow me to replace the rugs? It is killing me to see you standing there shivering."

Elizabeth said, "I thank you Thomas, but I do not know that we have any more to say."

Thomas said hopefully, "Perhaps you could just keep them."

"I think not, but we thank you anyway."

Darcy said, "Please, Miss Mary… Miss Elizabeth, would you do me the honor of accepting them. I should very much like to finish this conversation."

Elizabeth said, "It is finished, Mr. Darcy."

Somewhat desperately, Darcy cast around for any topic that would keep them engaged a few more minutes. Any topic at all would do. Finally, in agony, he asked, "Would you at least be willing to explain these two philosophies to me?"

Elizabeth sighed in combined annoyance and resignation, and looked at Mary, who just shrugged. Mary was actually enjoying watching the haughty gentleman squirm, but she could not think of a way to convey that idea to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth stared at the man for a minute and finally said, "They are shorthand for 'Gardiner' and 'Phillips', an aunt married to my mother's brother, and an uncle, married to my mother's sister. Mr. Phillips is an attorney, and he believes that you should investigate every mystery into all of its corners, and when you have a dispute with someone, you should discuss it until you can eventually come to an amicable solution – or at least until everyone understands the issue."

Darcy nodded, frowned, and said, "You chose 'G', and then decided to walk away. What, pray tell, is Mrs. Gardiner's philosophy?"

Elizabeth and Mary had not anticipated this particular line of reasoning and tried to demur. Elizabeth said, "I cannot repeat it with any degree of politeness, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy winced, and said, "Please, Miss Elizabeth! I will not hold it against you. In fact, I would consider it a great privilege if you would share it with me."

Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy in some consternation. He was not acting as Mr. Darcy was supposed to act, and she did not know if she liked this version of Mr. Darcy or hated him. It had been so much more comfortable when she thought she knew everything about him.

Mary looked at Mr. Darcy with some interest. She had spent almost no time talking to him at all, so most of what she thought about him was second hand from Lizzy. The man in front of her did not resemble the picture Lizzy painted, and she did not know if she liked this version of Mr. Darcy or not. There was something very peculiar about how he was staring at them… or more specifically, the way he was staring at Lizzy. He was hardly looking at Mary at all.

Elizabeth eventually sighed, and looked at Mary, who once again shrugged. She would ordinarily prefer to not share this with the man, but if Lizzy was ready to do so, then who was Mary to stop her. After all, they had dug their own hole by _discussing secret affairs_ right in front of the gentleman.

Elizabeth said, "Aunt Gardiner says, _'Never argue with an idiot. They just drag you down to their level and beat you with experience.' _It is a bit hyperbolic, but the gist is that when you are confronted with a conversation that can have no good outcome, it is sometimes best to just exit it."

Darcy stood with his jaw hanging open.

Elizabeth said, "It is a general comment sir. I am not saying you are an idiot."

Everyone had almost forgotten Thomas was there, until he started laughing. Elizabeth and Mary just stared at him as his mirth continued, and only a few seconds behind him, Mr. Darcy joined him. Both ladies watched the two men in confusion as their laughter fed on itself, until they were slapping their knees and practically howling.

After some considerable time, Darcy said quite incongruously, "Well, since we are on the subject of idiots", and looked at Thomas. A few seconds later, two very confused ladies found themselves draped in greatcoats, with the travel rugs over the top of them, and the two men standing back in front of them. Mr. Smithers joined a moment later looking perplexed, until Thomas said, "Never argue with an idiot", at which point the coachman joined their mirth.

Not at all certain whether they were amused or vexed by the confusing display, Mary pulled Tomas' greatcoat tighter, and said, "Well, we are happy we could give you such amusement. Now…"

Before she could get out yet another suggestion of parting company, Mr. Darcy stepped a pace closer and asked, "Are you really planning to leave without learning what turned us into three fools right in front of your eyes?"

Both ladies were even more confused by this display, especially since Mr. Darcy was smiling in a most disconcerting fashion. Had the sisters been able to discuss it, they would probably have been able to come to a mutual decision that this particular flavor of Mr. Darcy was much more handsome than the scowling and haughty one they were accustomed to.

Elizabeth said, "I suppose not, Mr. Darcy", and then she, quite unexpectedly, smiled at the man. It was a bit of a sly smile, which she was unfortunately completely unaware of. Mr. Darcy did notice it though, as did Mary.

Darcy said, "Is there any chance at all that your Aunt Gardiner was once Miss Dinah Follett of Lambton?"

Both ladies gasped and acknowledged the fact with nods of their heads.

Darcy smiled, and said, "Thomas and I remember her well. She is perhaps a decade our senior, and we all thought very highly of her. She said those exact words to us one day when Thomas and I were having some silly argument in the middle of the town square. We grew up together, you see. Thomas' father and grandfather all worked at Pemberley. She managed to quell that argument, and probably some future ones that never happened, with just those exact words."

Elizabeth laughed, and said with more of a smile than she really intended, "Which of you was being the idiot, if I may ask?"

Darcy smiled back, and said, "You need not ask, when the answer is so obvious."

Elizabeth sighed, and then, completely confused, she wondered where they were in the conversation. She was just trying to decide if she really wanted to walk the last twenty minutes to her Aunt Philips' house soaking wet to avoid the inevitable gossip that would occur if she appeared in the Darcy coach or wearing his coat.

Thomas and Mr. Smithers, with one last chuckle, said, "We will return to the coach, Sir."

Elizabeth watched them go, and said, "I am sorry, Mr. Darcy. I did not really mean to call you an idiot."

Darcy said, "Well, Miss Elizabeth. Your aunt is still quite a wise woman, and there is another old saying. It begins with, 'If the shoe fits.'"

Somewhat disconcerted, Elizabeth looked at Mary for help, and Mary said, "What do you mean, Mr. Darcy?"

He sighed, and said, "Well, your assessment was not far off, ladies. I do seem to be a right idiot."

Elizabeth asked carefully, "Why?"

Darcy sighed, and said, "Because I was planning to interfere in business that I had no right to be involved in, but now, I have been forcefully reminded of the folly of such an action. I believe this meeting to be fortuitous… well, aside from all the mud."

Elizabeth and Mary could not quite help themselves from giggling. They would have never thought Mr. Darcy capable of humor, let alone admitting to a mistake, and the entire 'idiot' part of the conversation was wholly unexpected.

Elizabeth said, "Well, are you now saying that you will not interfere in something that is none of your business?"

Darcy said, "Yes… well, almost."

Elizabeth's brow immediately furrowed, but before she could say anything intemperate, he jumped in.

"Steady on, Miss Elizabeth. I mean that I will interfere with Bingley's management of his household to the extent that he will know what happened today, and Miss Bingley's part in the whole debacle, along with some suggestions about how much weight he should give to a woman who would do such a thing. Then I will also tell him that his sisters must be brought to heel. It is high time that he does so. That is the extent of the involvement I will undertake. Between Bingley and your elder sister, I think it would be best for all of us to step aside… unless…"

Elizabeth looked at him in perplexity, and asked somewhat timidly, "… unless?"

Darcy looked at her steadily, and said, "There is some possibility that he is an idiot as much as me, or at least, he is not sure of himself. Men in love are usually indistinguishable from idiots. Would it be terribly untoward of me to mention that I have been reliably informed that Miss Bennet will not even consider matrimony without the utmost affection, nor would she pretend to anything she does not feel?"

Elizabeth stared at him for quite some time, then looked at Mary who had also been staring at him.

Finally, Mary said, "That would be frighteningly improper, Mr. Darcy. It would be the worst sort of interference, well outside of your remit as a friend, and it would break every cherished rule of decorum in the books."

Darcy looked somewhat chagrinned, and stared at the ground, scuffing a rock back and forth with his boot.

Elizabeth finally caught his eye, gave him a big smile, and said, "Only an idiot would do such a thing."


	5. Idiot

Much to the Bennet sisters' surprise, Mr. Darcy laughed a bit, shook like a leaf in a storm, then ran his fingers through his hair in random directions enough times to make it spike up like a mad prophet of doom, then crossed his eyes, tilted his head, hunched over and even made a bit of drool come out of his mouth, as he said, "Gaaaiiaaia gaaaosyas yasyssyys".

Mary and Elizabeth couldn't help themselves. They burst out laughing and could not stop for quite some time. They could hear Thomas and Mr. Smithers laughing as well, since they had actually only made it about ten paces from the Darcy coach.

Mary decided she liked this incarnation of Mr. Darcy very much, and Lizzy… well, Lizzy was just confused. She had quite disliked him that morning, had hated him twenty minutes before, but when he showed he was willing to make himself ridiculous, she felt a small stirring of some unknown emotion for him. It may or may not have been esteem, or respect or attraction per-se; but it was – _something_, and given some time to admit it to herself, she would have had to assert it was _something powerful._

After about a half‑minute of his antics, Mr. Darcy stopped, uncrossed his eyes, stood up straight and let out a big smile. He quite enjoyed the smiles he saw on the Bennet sisters' faces and wondered if he could do that _without_ making quite such a fool of himself. Or, he thought, perhaps it was time to make a _different kind of fool_ of himself instead.

Elizabeth and Mary watched in wonder as he straightened up, casually wiped the drool off his mouth with his sleeve and combed his hair with his fingers enough to make it more or less presentable. Elizabeth judged his valet would only frown instead of weeping.

Mary, feeling just a touch frisky, said, "Mr. Darcy, I like your hair that way. You should do that more often."

Darcy asked, "Which version", with a quirk of his eyebrow?

Mary laughed, and said, "This one. The madman effect is only useful in certain situations, but this one could be used generally."

Curious, Darcy asked, "May I ask why?"

Caught out, Mary sucked air through her teeth, clucked her tongue a bit, and said, "I really do not know precisely… Lizzy?"

Elizabeth found herself off guard, because she had to agree with Mary, but could not put her finger on exactly _why_. She found Mr. Darcy looking at her most disconcertingly, with a small smile on his face, and she suddenly thought she might have had an epiphany. She had seen him look at her intently like that before, and she had occasionally seen the small lopsided grin that she had to sheepishly admit made him look somewhat – well, she could not put a word on it, perhaps 'sweet' or 'adorable' (if those could be used on a full‑grown man), but those were not _quite_ right. Of one thing she was certain though, he was not looking to find fault, which meant… which meant… well, she did not even want to think about what it meant, but it seemed necessary.

Falling back on rationality, she thought that if he was not looking to find fault today, what did that mean for all those _other times_ she had seen the expression? Very basic logic and Occam's razor would assert that internal consistency was the most likely scenario. That meant that the same expression would mean the same thing in different situations. In other words, _past is prologue._ Her previous theory that he was looking to find fault was cast in very weak sand indeed, and it was crumbling by the minute.

Finally, put on the spot and anxious to keep the rapport they had created, she said, "I think it makes you more approachable, Mr. Darcy… more… available… more… real… more… human… well, none of those words are _quite_ correct, but…"

Feeling suddenly somewhat shy, she just let her voice trail off, and looked at the ground, blushing and barely refraining from saying _'more handsome'_.

Darcy said, "I shall adopt this look with alacrity. Do you suppose I could get you to advise my tailor as well?"

The ladies laughed softly, which brought another smile to his face, and reduced their embarrassment back to manageable levels.

He paused a moment, then asked, "Ladies, are you warm and comfortable enough for a few minutes conversation? I… well… I have a request to make, but not at the expense of your comfort."

Mary said, "We are fine, Mr. Darcy. Lizzy gets this muddy at least once a fortnight, but I believe you can say goodbye to these greatcoats. We are quite enamored with them."

Darcy laughed, and said, "Consider them yours. I asked because… well, this is the best, most honest conversation I have ever had in my life. I have a few questions I would like to ask, but there are things I should put in motion first. Do you mind waiting five minutes to allow me to do so?"

Elizabeth said, "Mr. Darcy, if this is the best conversation you have ever had, you are going about it entirely wrong. I believe the next time you hold a ball, you should hire a dozen or two extra footmen. They can stand outside the ballroom in ranks. The first group will dump buckets of muddy water on all the guests. The second will wrap them in greatcoats, and the third will wrap them with travel rugs. You can make this happen every week if you want."

All three laughed at the jest, and Elizabeth began to wonder why it was so easy to get laughter from a group that had been implacable enemies within the previous hour.

Darcy raised his voice enough to be heard over at his coach, and said, "Thomas… Smithers… Samson…"

Elizabeth and Mary saw the two men they were familiar with, and a third who was unknown approach from the area of the Darcy coach. The last man was a well ‑dressed servant of around forty years. When the arrived, Thomas handed Darcy a greatcoat, and put one on himself. He smiled at the ladies, and said, "You may have these too if you are so inclined, ladies."

Mary smiled, and said, "No, these will suffice. We can always get more next time Mr. Darcy holds a ball."

Smithers snorted, and said, "You mean the first time he holds a ball."

Darcy laughed along with them, and Elizabeth began to wonder about the dynamics of the group. They were obviously master and servant, but there seemed an unexpected level of respect and comradery. Thomas and Mr. Darcy had obviously been close enough as young men for Aunt Gardiner to break up an argument between them, so they had that bond, but there was _something else_, something that she had never seen before. She hated to admit it, but she was insatiably curious about _what _it was, for some reason she could not fathom. Mr. Darcy was breaking all of her expectations of how the _Great Master of Pemberley_ would act, and it was confusing.

Darcy said, "Miss Elizabeth Bennet… Miss Mary Bennet… this is James Samson, my valet. Samson, Misses Elizabeth and Mary Bennet… though Miss Mary is soon to be Mrs. Collins."

The newcomer bowed, and said, "Well met, ladies. I have heard much of you over these weeks, and all to your credit, I assure you."

Both ladies scrunched their eyes in confusion but decided to just let it go for the moment.

Darcy said, "James, I should like to return to Netherfield, and Bingley's last instructions indicate he will as well. Can you see to it by undoing his sister's actions? You will need to speak with Mrs. Morris and Mr. Greaves. I dislike giving orders in Bingley's household, but it must be done. Closing the house was a mistake, and anyone who was discharged should be rehired before they get away. I would also like it put about that closing the house was my mistake and offer everyone an extra fortnight's pay to compensate them for the inconvenience. "

"Everyone, or just those discharged?"

"Everyone. Fair is fair."

Elizabeth and Mary just stared in shock, and Mary asked, "Why, Mr. Darcy?"

There was little need to clarify the question, so he answered, "Because it is the right thing to do, Miss Mary. It was my mistake, and it is my responsibility to correct it. There are consequences when servants cannot depend on their employment. I was so distracted by my own thoughts, which were admittedly quite jumbled and idiotic, that I listened to _Miss Bingley_, a ridiculous strategy if I have ever seen one. _Bingley can succeed here_, but I have had my eyes opened. My behavior and that of his sisters has hurt his reputation in the neighborhood and made that success more difficult. I am responsible for some of the damage, so it is my responsibility to mitigate it if I can."

Elizabeth relentlessly asked, "Why do you think this now, Mr. Darcy, when you did not think it an hour ago? It seems awfully convenient."

Darcy looked at her intently, but for some reason, it did not make her nervous; it made her curious. Everyone but Elizabeth noticed him step half a step closer to her, but nobody commented on it.

He made a self‑deprecating chuckle, and replied, "_Because, Miss Elizabeth, __you and your sister have opened my eyes__._ I try to live my life in an honorable fashion, but I make mistakes like anybody… perhaps, more than some. When I asserted that my pride was under good regulation in the drawing room at Netherfield, I was wildly off the mark. However, when an error is made due to ignorance, hubris, or malice then _basic gentlemanly behavior_ demands correction. The error was mine, and so must the remedy be."

Elizabeth thought that she did not know this man at all but, she was considerably less averse to learning about him than she had been. In fact, she found she was not averse to the idea at all, which was… surprising.

She said, "Well said, Mr. Darcy. I applaud your reasoning, and I thank you."

Darcy smiled that same smile again, but this time the feeling it engendered was less ambiguous. This time, she thought she felt something definitely interesting stirring in her breast. She had no idea if it fascinated or frightened her.

Turning back to his valet, Darcy continued, "I would prefer that what happened here not be made general gossip. The Bingley sisters will not be back, and my men will say nothing. See if you can convince the two drivers of that Bingley wagon to hold their tongues."

Samson said, "I shall see to it, Sir. They will comply. Anything else?"

"Yes. Tell the housekeeper and butler that I will most likely be going to town in the next couple of days to return with Bingley, but until then, they should just carry on as before. If, on their judgement any funds should be spent, I will make it whole."

"Naturally."

The way the valet said that without a pause told her something more about the gentleman. His valet, who had presumably known him for years, just expected him to do the right thing as a matter of course.

Darcy continued, "Please also inform Mrs. Morris that, when I return, I will most likely bring my sister, and if I can manage it, I may try to convince my aunt to visit and act as host for Bingley for a few weeks. I will never share a house with his sisters again. Ask her to prepare but say nothing, since I will have to present the plan to everyone first."

The valet nodded, saying, "Very good, Sir! Ladies, it has been a pleasure meeting you, and I hope to repeat the pleasure again in the future."

Mary said, "The pleasure is all ours, Mr. Samson."

Attempting a curtsy in the greatcoats would have looked silly, so they just nodded and bobbed a bit, while Mr. Samson gave a regal bow, turned on his heels and left to do his bidding."

Darcy continued, "Thomas, I believe if you take Copernicus, you can overtake the Bingley carriage and beat them to town. Find Bingley and tell him what happened here… at least the part that his sisters played. Tell him not to listen to a word they say until he talks to me. He may want to just hide out at his club or his hotel until he has the full story. It will do no harm to let his sisters stew in their own juices for a while. I will be there in a day or two, once I have taken care of things here. You can wait for me at Darcy house."

Thomas touched his cap, then bowed to the ladies, and said, "Ladies, it has been a pleasure. I join Mr. Samson in wishing we might have your company again, soon and often."

They gave him a similar sendoff, and Elizabeth asked, "Copernicus?"

Darcy laughed, and said, "I name all my stallions after scientists."

Elizabeth smiled, and then she saw Thomas go by on a magnificent gray stallion, touching his cap as he went.


	6. Direction

As they watched Thomas ride away on Copernicus, Mary looked around and noticed that the other two wagons were already moving towards them. They would need to go to Meryton, turn around and return, but it would take some time so they would not have to deal with them for at least a half‑hour.

Darcy asked, "Miss Elizabeth… Miss Mary… Would you allow me to deliver you where you need to go. I ask now as I am certain you do not want to stand around here all day, and Smithers should get the coach pointed in the right direction. He will have to move aside to let the wagons pass anyway."

The sisters looked at each other, nodded, and Mary said, "Please turn the coach around, Mr. Smithers. We will accept Mr. Darcy's kind offer to return us to Longbourn."

Both ladies waited for Smithers to mount the carriage and move out of earshot before continuing.

Elizabeth said, "We were _very_ angry before, Mr. Darcy, and walking into Meryton covered in mud seemed a perfectly good way to sink the Netherfield party's reputation. Now… well, now we would wish this incident to be forgotten."

Darcy said, "I will never forget it, but I also do not want it to become a spectacle. To be honest, I believe that, while uncomfortable for all of us, this may well have been the best hour of my life."

Elizabeth and Mary stared at him in shock, and Mary said, "Your life must be awful, Mr. Darcy."

He grimaced, and said, "In fact, Miss Mary, you are correct, but it took the two of you to open my eyes to that fact. Now, I can never go back to the way I was before."

Elizabeth asked timidly, "Is that a good thing or bad, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy walked another pace closer to her, and said, "That depends, Miss Elizabeth. It is definitely not bad. Quite the contrary, in fact. My life before lacked clear direction, which it now has in abundance. My thinking was muddled, but now it is sharp. After today, my life will be either good or great, depending on the answer to a question I intend to ask."

Quite surprised to find the gentleman only a pace away, and even more surprised to find herself not only unintimidated, but surprisingly comfortable with the distance, she asked in nearly a whisper, _'What question is that, Mr. Darcy?'_

In a similar whisper, he said, _'Before I ask, I must stipulate that I __know__ I have a lot of ground to make up, and I intend to succeed, regardless of how long it takes. I have not earned the privilege I will be asking for, but I will ask anyway. You have as long as you like to answer.'_

Quite perplexed, Elizabeth said, "I have a difficult time imagining a question you might have for me that would take a long time to answer, but I will await the question before commenting on how long I need."

Darcy said, "My question is simple. Will you allow me to court you, Miss Elizabeth? To court you _properly_, with an eye towards allowing you to see the man I am – essentially the man you and your sister remade this morning – rather than the overly proud strutting peacock you have seen to date. Will you allow me the right to treat you with the respect and attention you deserve, and ultimately ask for your hand in marriage at a time and place of your choosing?"

Mary gasped in surprise, while Elizabeth stood entirely speechless.

Mr. Darcy stood waiting patiently, while Elizabeth thought furiously. Memories and connections were forming faster than she could sort them out, so in desperation, she said, "May I ask some questions of my own, Mr. Darcy."

"Of course!"

Blowing out a deep breath, she said, "Why?"

Darcy sighed, and said, "Because it took almost losing any chance with you to make me realize that _I admire and love you _with all my heart_. I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun_, but I realize now, that you are the perfect match for me_._ Your wit, your intelligence, your kindness, your vivacity, your beauty… in short, you have bewitched me, body and soul. You possess the skills that I lack, and I would hope that I might be able to round out some things you lack. Your sister said you wanted to marry for only the deepest affection, and that made me _realize something that I had hidden even from myself._ That is what I want as well, but I would not have been able to articulate it an hour ago. Nay, I could not even think it. I believe I was running from my own fear as much as anything. Fate gave me a slim chance to overcome my own self‑imposed stumbling blocks, and I intend to do so."

Elizabeth stared at him for some time, and finally said, "But… but…"

Darcy said, "Give me a chance to regain your esteem, Elizabeth, please! That is all I ask."

Mary started seeing her sisters temper rise and decided to curtail it before it got out of control.

Quite emphatically, she said, "Mr. Darcy, you seem to be operating under a misconception. You cannot 'regain' her esteem. You never had it in the first place."

Darcy startled, looked at Mary, and said, "Pardon?"

Mary asked, "Lizzy, I trusted you to do the right thing to my benefit this morning. Will you now trust me to return the favor?"

"Of course, Mary!"

The instant and emphatic reply told both sisters that something important was happening, and Mary decided she would not fail.

"Mr. Darcy, that exchange may have confused you, so allow me to explain. Elizabeth basically negotiated the terms for Mr. Collins's proposal to me this morning. The poor man had no idea what was happening but is quite content with the result, because I trusted my sister to look out for both myself and Mr. Collins. Will you do the same with me, but with your eyes wide open."

The gentleman surprised himself by answering as instantly and emphatically as Elizabeth had, "Of course, Miss Mary."

He did not feel that was quite emphatic enough, so he added, "You have been honest with me this entire encounter, and your wisdom has brought me this far. I trust you."

Mary nodded, and said, "Let us go back to the beginning, Mr. Darcy. I can see that your heart is in this. Lizzy could see it as well, but she is too close to it, too set in her thinking, too _affected_ by it. She has not _quite_ overcome her wounded vanity yet, so allow me to clarify the record. _Are you now asserting that Elizabeth is not only tolerable, but she __**is**__ handsome enough to tempt you?_"

Darcy scrunched his head in concentration, and Mary could see the moment when the memory surfaced, as his face fell worse than hers had when hit with the wall of muddy water an hour earlier.

Darcy said, "I… I… I…"

Mary just waited patiently, and then Darcy said somewhat grimly, "Perhaps Bingley's coachman will get away without punishment. I really need Smithers to beat some sense into me, and I am not certain he will have anything left for the boy."

Elizabeth laughed, but it was almost more of a confused sounding cackle than a true laugh.

Darcy stared at the ground and said, "_I cannot believe I actually said that._"

He stared at his memory and smacked himself in the side of the head a few times just to make sure it was correct, while repeating the same thing at least twice.

Finally, he said, "Miss Elizabeth, I owe you a heartfelt apology. I could give you the reasons for my abominably bad temper of the night, but they would be nothing but insufficient whining. I can only offer my abject apology, and the assertion that it was very soon after that when I learned that you _tempt me a great deal_. I cannot undo the damage of that horrible night, but I can and do offer all the contrition I possess, and I hope you will allow me to redeem myself."

Elizabeth found herself quite surprisingly saying, "I forgive you, Mr. Darcy. I… I… well…"

Mary said softly, "Let me, Lizzy."

"Please."

"Mr. Darcy, what Elizabeth wants to tell you, but finds herself incapable, is _that jibe was painful_. It hurt because she found you very handsome, and you attacked her vanity, which was already considerably weakened by years of assaults by our own mother. Elizabeth and I have been the 'unhandsome' Bennets as far back as we can remember. My sister tried to laugh it off and make a joke of it, but I never quite believed her. She was hurt by your words."

Mary saw, only slightly to her surprise, some tears falling from both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy's eyes. She vaguely noticed that the Darcy coach and wagons full of furniture had bypassed them and were going to Meryton to turn around as they spoke, so they were all alone, the three of them, with both of her companions leaking tears from their eyes.

Mary added, "That was the poison at the root of the tree, Mr. Darcy. Mr. Wickham then treated her very well, so he found ready acceptance for a tale that did not paint you in a good light. Knowing you as I do now, I believe they were most likely all lies. You need not refute them in detail now, just tell us that we can believe you."

Elizabeth, quite surprisingly shouted, "**NO!**"

Both Mary and Darcy looked at her in confusion, so she explained.

"Mary, I thank you for your efforts, but this man has told me he admires and loves me. I… well… I am confused, but I know I feel _something_ for him… something _powerful_. I find myself quite incapable of believing Mr. Wickham's lies any more. They all ring hollow, now that I see how a true gentleman accepts difficult times. Mr. Darcy, if and when I accept your hand, I will want a full accounting, but for the moment, I will not sully this moment with a discussion of that creature. I will disregard everything he has ever said."

Darcy nodded, and said, "As Miss Mary said, I dug my own hole. I hope to get out some day, perhaps you might help me, but for the moment, I at least want to stop digging."

Elizabeth still had tears running down her cheeks, and Mr. Darcy took his handkerchief out of his pocket. He went to hand it to her, but found her arms were still trapped inside the greatcoat, and she was still using them to wrap it tightly around herself. He very boldly stepped close and wiped the tears away. He was somewhat surprised when she simply closed her eyes, let him do his work, and sighed in some kind of satisfaction when he finished.

Mary said, "Elizabeth, I will deny I said this in future, but as of this morning, I can tell you that a kiss from a man you esteem is the most wonderful thing in the world. It can clarify the mind like nothing else I have ever experienced, and since my eyes are completely full of mud and I am facing the opposite direction anyway to keep Mr. Smithers from running over us, you might like to give it a try."

Elizabeth was at the same time shocked, and not-shocked. She was _shocked_ that Mary would suggest such a scandalous thing, _shocked_ that she actually found the idea quite appealing, and _not‑shocked_ that fate seemed to have been pushing her in this direction for the past hour, and then shocked again that Fate did not seem to have to endure a lot of pushing and screaming.

In that moment, she thought she saw her future. Perhaps she thought it was God or Fate or her own imagination giving her a vision of possibilities, but she saw a very old Mr. Darcy with gray hair (what was left of it), gray beard, a big paunch and a raspy voice, sitting in a rocking chair in front of the fireplace with herself, old and gray, round from delivering and raising any number of children, sitting beside him with various grandchildren making a right nuisance of themselves. Right at that moment, she glimpsed the supreme happiness of that couple reminiscing on the life they had lived, and _it just felt right. It felt natural, it felt… inevitable._

Forgetting the cold November wind, and forgetting all concepts of propriety or decorum or decency, she shrugged off Mr. Darcy's greatcoat and travelling rug. She felt the sting of the wind and the cold only momentarily, because just a moment later, she had put her cold hands inside _another of Mr. Darcy's greatcoats_, and this one had the supreme benefit of being occupied. She wrapped her arms carefully around his waist, while he wrapped the edges of the coat around to envelop her in its warmth as his arms wrapped around her shoulders.

With the utmost care and caution, the couple looked at each other, and he said, "I am sorry for hurting you", while she simultaneously said, "I am sorry for overreacting." Then, no more words were necessary as they first moved their faces to an inch apart and came to a stop.

They stared at each other for several long moments, and he said, "I love you, with all my heart."

She stared a minute more, and said, "Then do not be so timid. If you want my hand, ask for it."

With a grin, he said, "Your sister told me you would only marry for the greatest affection. Have I earned it?"

She smiled, and said, "I have no idea how or why, but you make my heart sing. I do love you! Though all logic and caution and good sense says I should take my time to be certain, I cannot imagine being any more certain than I am right now. So, ask – please – while my courage is strong."

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet, love and light of my life, will you honor me with the great privilege of being your husband for the rest of our natural lives."

Her smile was something the man would remember to his dying breath, and she said, "Yes… Oh, yes!"

Now that the betrothal was properly sanctioned, their lips came together with the lightest touch, and Elizabeth forgot all about the cold November wind. She thought that her entire life could have occurred in that few seconds of eternity of that first kiss, and she thought that she might never ever be unhappy again.

~~~ Finis (Ending 1) ~~~

* * *

_A/N: Well gang, that's the end of the 'short' alternate ending. This is my first alternate ending story. At 10k words this is about double or triple what I planned, but hey - these things happen. I have a lot of ideas for the long version, but not a complete picture of it, so I'll make a chapter in the next couple of days and see where it goes._

_I'm going to temporarily mark this as Complete, and I'll take it back to Incomplete when I start adding the long version._

_Wade_


	7. Whoooaaahhh – Long

_A/N: Well, there's the end of the short version, so here's the start of the long one. I had only a vague idea of the story arc when I offered it up (I do stuff like that from time to time), but now I have the full outline in mind. I'm expecting another 10-15 chapters, but don't expect a super‑fast posting schedule. It'll be a couple chapters a week._

_Not sure if people are attracted to this due to the geekiness or OOCness, so naturally I'll increase both. So, strap on your geek and board the OOC express. This follows Chapter 2. _

_Wade_

* * *

_Alternate Ending 2 – Long(ish)_

* * *

_Thinking quickly, Elizabeth grabbed Mary's arm and they barely managed to jump to a path beside the road, before a carriage came around a corner and went barreling by with the horses nearly at a run. The driver paid them not the slightest attention, if he even saw them. Both the front and rear wheels went through a puddle, that left both ladies covered in mud from bonnets to boots, as the carriage rumbled down the road towards London. _

_Longbourn Math, Chapter 2_

* * *

Mary and Elizabeth spent several minutes doing their best to at least clean their faces somewhat, with a focus on keeping mud out of their eyes and mouths, using nothing but their handkerchiefs and wraps. The wraps were already drenched in mud on the front, but the back was clean enough to use as a towel.

The mud was of a different kind than they were accustomed to, since not a single coachman in Hertfordshire would operate so carelessly… or at least, he would not do so twice. They got a double dose. First the wheel went through a large puddle at high speed, which drenched them with muddy water. Simultaneously, the front wheel threw up some actual mud, complete with small pebbles directly into their face, while the back wheel through some over the tops of their heads. The only way they could have been any more disagreeably muddy is if the horses had run them down and stamped them into the mud itself; which was in fact a distinct possibility the way the coach was being operated.

When they could speak again without coating their insides to match their outsides, Mary said, "Lizzy, did you see inside that coach?"

"I fear not, Mary."

Mary sighed, and said, "Well, there are two things of note. I only had a moment to see, but that was sufficient."

"Carry on."

"The first is that the coach had _Miss Bingley_, and the Hursts. I would conjecture they decided to escape this savage society the moment their brother turned his back on them for five minutes."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Yes, Mary. That would seem a reasonable interpretation of the available evidence."

"Well, the second thing is even more disturbing. Miss Bingley was smiling and just starting to laugh when I had to close my eyes. She was looking straight at us and **laughing**!"

Elizabeth sputtered, and said, "Well, I never… well… I knew she was a disagreeable hoyden, but this… this… this…"

They both found themselves paralyzed by propriety. They had to balance the conflicting pressures to say what they really thought of the Bingley sisters, against the long‑ingrained habit of acting like ladies who did _not_ say such things under any conditions. They were both in the confusing process of trying to work out the appropriate response, when the issue was solved in favor of silence by a loud call that superseded all speech.

"**Whoooaaahhh, there!**"

The ladies looked up from their labors to see a wagon loaded with luggage approaching at a _much_ more reasonable pace. That driver was apparently either less malevolent, more careful, more observant, more sensible or just more professional, all around. Elizabeth guessed the latter description was a superset of the first three, and since she had no evidence to negate the first three, she would accept it as an acceptable working theory. There… she had said it. This particular wagon had a very professional driver, based on the rigorous precepts of set theory.

Since this new wagon was approaching at a careful walk, there was no danger of a repeat of the previous incident, especially since she could see the driver watching most carefully and maneuvering the horses around the puddles.

A minute or two more brought the wagon to a stop, and Elizabeth saw the driver, a rugged looking man of around forty, and a younger boy of perhaps sixteen sitting on the seat, looking down at them. The driver said, "Get the thick wool blankets for these ladies, Kep", before carefully setting the brake and tying off the reins.

The younger boy, apparently 'Kep', jumped down to the ground quickly, but carefully. Fortunately, he missed the puddle by a foot so he did not splash them all over again; which would not have been well received in their present moods.

He dug around in the back of the wagon for a half a minute, before saying, "**Aha**!", and brought two blankets over to the ladies. He bowed, and said, "My apologies, ladies. This is the best we have available quickly."

Mary said, "Do not apologize, good sir. They are perfectly lovely."

The driver was just climbing down carefully, and he said, "Kep, I think you may find some towels in that green trunk on the top in the very back, or maybe the brown one. Ladies, I suggest you wrap yourselves up with the blankets, and we will help you get cleaned up presently.

The ladies followed the suggestion, and found the blankets were thick and warm, and they cut down on the chill considerably.

'Kep' rummaged around in the trunks, and finally found what he was looking for. In one hand he held up a handful of silk scarves that probably cost £100 each, and in the other, he held up a few clean and dry towels. Sporting a semi‑evil looking grin, he said, "You may choose Ladies, but my thought is that the towels will probably be more efficacious."

Both sisters laughed merrily at the idea, and Mary said, "Tempting… but… no."

The young man replaced the silk scarves where he found them, jumped down, brought two clean towels over to the ladies, and asked, "Is there a stream nearby?"

Mary pointed behind herself, and said, "About thirty yards that way, but please be careful young man. The banks are very slippery this time of year."

"Yes, ma'am", he volunteered, but then grabbed a bucket from the back of the wagon and took off at a run anyway.

Mary and Lizzy just looked at each other and grinned.

The driver said, "Do not fret, ladies. Youth, maleness and common sense are generally mutually exclusive."

Mary laughed, and said, "I am not as well read on probability theory as I could be, but I thought that mutual exclusivity only applied for two items in the set – not three. Perhaps you should combine terms and say that 'young males' and 'common sense' are mutually exclusive. Your argument would otherwise fall apart without the combination, as you would simply be asserting that none of the three can exist in the same set, but in fact, you are obviously a sensible man, which would prove the hypothesis incorrect."

The driver laughed quite loudly, and said, "Perhaps you are right, young lady… perhaps you are right, though a sensible man would probably use probability theory and conclude that two mud‑spattered urchins were unlikely to argue with his definition of a mathematical term."

Elizabeth and Mary giggled happily at the banter, and thought the morning was improving already.

The driver continued, "At any rate, Ladies, we will have you as right as we can shortly, and then I will take you home or wherever you would like to go."

Mary said, "We thank you… er…"

The man smiled, and said, "Ivar Newton, at your service… No relation."

Both ladies laughed at the jest, and Mary asked, "Are you saying you are no relation to the famous mathematician or no relation to the famous Viking?"

The driver laughed, and said, "Ah, so we have some educated ladies, do we. That is lovely. I am not related to either. I only know about Ivar the Boneless because I know another driver that is obsessed with that period of history. I am something of a mathematical dabbler myself, but I hardly ever engage in murderous rampages. As for the mathematician, I happen to be reading _Optiks_ again at the moment."

Mary said, "Oh, yes. I love that book. I should have a very difficult time if I were to be marooned on an island for some time and had to choose between that and _Principia_."

Elizabeth said, "Oh yes, I agree. May I ask an impertinent question, Mr. Newton?"

Newton chuckled, and said, "They are the only kind worth asking, young lady, but might I have your names first?"

Both sisters looked chagrinned that they had entered a conversation without anything close to the basics, although they might assert that there _were no specific _rules governing how to speak with a mathematically inclined driver with a Viking name when covered head to toe in mud. In such a scenario, what was the appropriate rule of thumb – 'anything not prohibited was allowed' or 'anything not allowed was prohibited'.

Mary did the honors, "Mr. Newton, this is my elder sister Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and I am Miss Mary Bennet."

Elizabeth said, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Newton. I should mention that my sister is betrothed just this morning, not an hour ago, so she is soon to be Mrs. Collins."

Newton let out a big smile, and offered, "Congratulations, Miss Mary. Being aficionados of mathematics, what would you figure the odds of being covered in mud on your betrothal day would be. I might guess 10,000:1 or more."

Both ladies laughed, and decided they liked Mr. Newton very much. They were feeling better now with the thick woolen blankets, and Mr. Newton continued, "Now, snuggle up with those blankets. Derbyshire wool, they are. Finest I have ever seen."

"Yes, Sir. We must agree."

Young Kep came back from the stream carrying a bucket of water, and said, "I would build you a fire to warm it ladies, but it would take longer than just taking you into the village or back home."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "This will be fine! We thank you for your efforts."

Mr. Newton said, "Come along now, Kep. Let us give them some privacy."

Elizabeth and Mary were surprised when the two men walked a dozen feet away, but instead of just standing on the other side of the carriage, they stood shoulder to shoulder about 45° apart with their backs to the ladies, so the ladies would have privacy but the drivers could also watch the road in each direction to insure nobody surprised them during their ablutions. Both ladies appreciated the thoughtfulness very much.

Between the towels, and the bucket of water, the ladies had themselves much cleaner and warmer in just a few minutes, and Elizabeth said, "I thank you, kind Sirs. You may turn around now."

"Kep, see if you can find a couple of greatcoats in one of those trunks."

Elizabeth said, "We are actually not that uncomfortable with just the blankets, Sir."

"Pardon me ladies, but 'not that uncomfortable' is not the standard Kep and I aspire to."

Both sisters laughed, and Elizabeth asked, "Might we be introduced to your son, Mr. Newton?"

"Of course. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and Miss Mary Bennet, this is my son, Kepler Newton. Kep, the Misses Bennet, though Miss Mary is soon to be Mrs. Collins."

Kep bowed, and said, "Please offer my congratulations to Mr. Collins, ma'am. He seems to be a lucky man."

Mary blushed in combined appreciation and slight embarrassment, and Elizabeth just smiled at the young man.

Mary said, "An unusual given name, 'Kepler'."

The young man grinned, and said, "Easily explained, Miss Mary. You see, I came into this world several weeks early, and my father was unfortunately snowed in somewhere else. My mother picked the nicest name she spotted on the spines of my father's stack of books."

Elizabeth said, "It is a lovely name, for a lovely astronomer, Sir. Now on another peripheral subject, I trust you to accept these words as just my ignorance, but I have never heard of a driver who studies mathematics. Is it unusual?"

Kep spoke up, and said, "Might I answer, Papa?"

"Have at it, Son."

"First, I must set the frame of reference. My father and I are both drivers and coachmen, but we spend more of our time with coaches. Since you seem to be the type for intellectual pursuits, might I ask a question that will answer yours. When your mother or sisters go calling, what happens?"

Elizabeth said, "Well, we take the carriage to another home, take tea, ride to a different home, and repeat the process ad nauseum."

Mary sniggered, and said, "Those are the broad outlines, Mr. Kepler, but out of sheer boredom, I have delved into it more deeply if you are interested."

"Just 'Kep', please. I am fascinated, Miss Mary, though it be a diversion from my main point, I believe we can be trusted to return to the original question eventually."

Mary smiled, and said, "Well, Sir, there is a rather elementary sampling technique that is not very random or precise but gives useful results. You simply, periodically observe an activity and make a note of exactly what is happening at that moment. For small samples, you can keep track in your head, and then later you jot it down in categories using tally marks. You can then make a histogram of the results and present it in any number of useful forms. It is best to gather the data in detailed form, and then combine results that seem related. There is a brand‑new device called a pie chart that I find particularly appealing, personally."

"And what did you conclude, Miss Mary. You need not present your results graphically."

Mary smiled, and said, "Well, Sir, the biggest single item I classified as 'noise'. It is when two people are discussing something that both already know just to observe the forms or fill time. This includes the weather, the roads, the condition of their clothing, the amount of lace on someone else's clothing, and _gossip_, most of which is noise to start with, but is endlessly repeated until it takes on the veneer of truth. I estimated that category consumes a full 79% of my observations."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Mary is more critical of our society than I am. I made the same observations and found the amount of noise to be considerably less than my sister, so there is some room for personal bias in the analysis."

Mr. Newton asked, "What percentage did you come up with, Miss Elizabeth?"

"78%"

All four laughed, and then Mr. Newton said, "Well, shall I answer your question, Ladies?"

"Please."

"What do you suppose is happening to your coach and coachman all this time?"

Both ladies, much to their chagrin, said, "I never thought about it."

"Do not be concerned. You cannot obsess about every little thing that goes on in the world. I shall answer you. We need to see to the horses, park the carriage, give them water and grain and the like, and then we do… precisely _nothing_. Some men will join the servants in the home, but they are generally too busy to spend time with us. We might join the stable hands, but the same thing applies. Some will dice or gossip, with about the same amount of noise as you ladies. Some though… well, some of us prefer something else to bide our time. Your coachman, Mr. Simonson is an aficionado of poetry. Kep loves the classics, and I love mathematics. We have a library of books we share among ourselves, and that is how we pass the time."

Elizabeth and Mary were so happy that they clapped their hands in glee, which had the unfortunate side effect of slipping the blankets open enough to let a chill back in. Fortunately, Kep had been rummaging around in the wagon as his father talked, and he jumped down with a smirk that any misbehaving boy would be proud of, carrying two greatcoats. He asked permission, then slipped one coat on each lady, then wrapped the blankets back around them, and stood back in satisfaction.

After ensuring their comfort, Mr. Newton said, "Well, ladies. You do recall that I said I _hardly ever_ engaged in murderous tendencies?"

Mary replied, "Yes, and we applaud you for your forbearance."

"Well, the key phrase there is _'hardly ever'_. Sometimes, exceptions must be made. My profession demands it. Now, I will ask you a question that I already know the answer to. Was that Mr. Bingley's coach that splashed you, and were the passengers aware of what happened?"

* * *

_A/N: Warned you I'd geek out, though this may be the most egregious chapter (or maybe not - we'll see). Little Easter Eggs from Notting Hill and 1984 if you care to look. _


	8. Murderous Tendencies

Both ladies looked askance at Mr. Newton, and Mary asked, "I am not entirely certain I can bring myself to engage in a conversation about _murderous tendencies_, Mr. Newton."

Elizabeth said, "Yes, I would prefer to know what you mean as well."

Mr. Newton said, "My apologies, ladies. I was being hyperbolic. I will not 'murder' anyone, just ensure that they know the standards of conduct for our profession. The man that did this to you did not just inconvenience you and your laundry maid. He put your lives at risk. He put his employer's life and reputation at risk. Given enough rope, he will eventually put _someone else_ at risk. He cannot be allowed to continue. Now, I will tell you one more thing about our profession if you are of a mind."

Mary said, "We are listening, Sir", but somewhat shakily.

"Well, ladies. We do not have a guild per se, but we do have professional standards among coachmen, and the elders are responsible for 'instructing' the younger in our ways. For example, Kep, would _never_ do what that boy did no matter what his employer insisted on. He would give up his position first, or more likely, when asked to drive very fast, he would drive as fast as is safe and take the tongue lashing it entailed."

Elizabeth asked, "And, your 'instruction'?"

"Well, you see, coachmen, like any profession must have young men brought into the ranks. A certain percentage of young men can best be defined as 'hotheads'. This driver is one of them. I must admit that I was one, many years ago. I cannot estimate the overall percentage, but it is substantial. I simply will _instruct_ this young man using the time‑honored technique used on myself when I was young."

Mary asked, "Do I want to know?"

Mr. Newton said, "For most young ladies, probably not. For the two of you, I will offer you a choice. The young man will be brought to heel, one way or another. One method involves a short period of intense discomfort. The other involves more total suffering, but it is never as intense."

Mary asked, "Is there no way that does not involve suffering?"

"If there is, I do not know what it is."

"What do you want from us, Mr. Newton."

"Simply confirmation of his identity. I will assume it is the Bingley coach unless you contradict me."

The sisters looked at each other, and Mary asked, "Tell me the details of the two instruction methods."

"Well, the first involves a good thrashing, though nothing but fists and boots are allowed. I believe it is Kep's turn to learn this part of the trade. The boy will heal in a few weeks, and he will then either take it seriously or he will not. If he does not, then we will repeat the procedure until it sinks in."

The ladies tried their best to gasp in shock, but by that point, they were wondering if it would be unladylike to ask after more details.

Mary asked, "And the second alternative?"

"I will tell Mr. Bingley what happened, and he will most likely discharge the man without reference. If not that, he will not keep his silence, and he will accost his sister over it. She will eventually engineer some other type of dismissal or make the boy's life miserable. Eventually, he will be seeking a new position, possibly without reference."

Elizabeth asked, "Is he married?"

"Yes, with a young son."

"So, the second option would punish a wife and child for the father's transgressions."

Mr. Newton and Kep just nodded.

Elizabeth said, "Do as you must, Mr. Newton, but I must vote for the short and painful option. It was in fact the Bingley coach. Mary saw Miss Bingley and the Hursts inside. Miss Bingley saw us clearly, and actually started laughing as they went past. I have no idea if the coachman saw us or not."

Both drivers nodded, and Mr. Newton asked, "May I convey that information to Mr. Bingley?"

Elizabeth thought about it for a moment, and said, "I will ask you not to do so, Mr. Newton. I approve of your traditional training methods, whilst not implying that you need my approval. It seems sensible. Mary and I will be clean and dry in an hour, and I prefer your methods of educating the coachman to penury."

"It was efficacious for me in my youth, Miss Elizabeth. I will give the boy the same opportunity."

Mary nodded, and said, "I concur, Sir – much as it pains me."

Mr. Newton asked, "Miss Elizabeth, you asked me not to tell Mr. Bingley about the incident. Why is that? Is there another reason beyond saving the wife and child from the hedgerows?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "May I ask a few qualifying questions before I answer, Mr. Newton? I will ask you to demur answering anything that your personal ethics would be uncomfortable with."

"Of course, Miss Elizabeth. I am at your disposal."

"Is Netherfield shut up and closed down?"

"Yes, ma'am. Mr. Darcy left an hour or two ago. Miss Bingley asked me to start preparing two days ago."

Elizabeth looked at Mary and grimaced.

"Two days, you say. Did Mr. Bingley participate in these plans?"

"I do not know, Miss Elizabeth. He was not involved with Kep or I directly."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "Is it your understanding that nobody in the party is to return?"

"I am not privy to such information, Ladies."

"But you would agree, that with the house closed up, it seems… unlikely?"

"Logic would dictate that as the most reasonable answer, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "Well, we shall know in a few days. Mr. Bingley said he was going to town for less than a week. My unproven hypothesis is that at least Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst will try to dissuade him from returning… possibly Mr. Darcy as well, although that is just conjecture."

"What about Mr. Darcy leads you to suspect that, if I am not prying too much, Miss Elizabeth."

"Not at all, Mr. Newton. Mr. Darcy never liked it here. He insulted me within my hearing in the first evening of his stay. He spent most of the last six weeks looking at everyone and everything with disdain. He never danced more than the absolute minimum. The only surprise is that he took this long to leave."

Mary smirked, and said, "He danced _one more than the absolute minimum_ Lizzy."

Elizabeth shuddered

Kep and Mr. Newton looked perplexed, so Mary helpfully said, "He danced once with Lizzy last night."

Both men chuckled and nodded.

Elizabeth added, "Mr. Newton, can you account for a man disdaining a woman for six weeks and then asking her to dance?"

"Well, let us see, Miss Elizabeth. How did this 'disdain' manifest itself?"

"Well, the first time he saw me he said publicly that I was not handsome enough to dance with. After that, he stared at me quite a bit, which was somewhat unnerving. I spent a few days at Netherfield, and we spent most of the time arguing."

Newton nodded, and said, "Well, if your 'disdain' hypothesis is correct, then the dance might have been a wager. Young men are prone to such flights of fancy, and it would not be the first time. Or perhaps, he thought Bingley might make a go of it with your sister and decided it would be better to be less… err… confrontational with her family. Both explanations have merit, but both completely disregard Occam's Razor."

Mary said, "Finally, a man with some sense. You see the same simple explanation I can, do you not, Mr. Newton?"

Newton chuckled, and said, "Probably, I shall leave the big reveal in your capable hands, Miss Mary."

Elizabeth asked some confusedly, "What big reveal is that, Mary?"

"Well, _perhaps he admires you"_

Elizabeth started laughing, and could not stop for half a minute, but when she noticed Mary and the Newtons were not joining her, she stopped abruptly.

"You are not serious!"

"I am, completely serious", Mary giggled.

"I see. He admires me, so naturally the next step is to run from the county as if it were infested. You are not making much of a case."

Mary sighed, reached outside to touch Elizabeth's shoulder, which was harder than it sounded since she was quite toasty warm inside her blanket and greatcoat, and said, "Even that makes sense, Lizzy."

Looking perplexed, Elizabeth asked, "How so?"

Mary said, "Mr. Newton? Kep?"

Kep replied, "I am afraid it makes perfect sense, Miss Mary. Mr. Darcy is a member of the first circles. He is master of an estate more than four times the size of Netherfield, and his family has held it for 600 years. He is nephew to the Earl of Matlock. His mother was the daughter of an Earl. He could marry into the highest circles without any great difficulty. He may have found himself attracted to a country miss that does not match the _stature_ expected of the Mistress of Pemberley – and left to avoid any… err… entanglements."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "So your best theory is that he left because he is _afraid of me?_ Because I am too short."

Mary burst into laughter, and the others joined her.

Kep said, "You got me there, Miss Elizabeth. You know perfectly well I meant the _other_ kind of stature, but you are just having it on with me. At any rate, it is only a suggestion… but it does make a certain type of sense."

Elizabeth thought about it for a minute, and said, "_Afraid of poor little me_… who would even entertain the possibility."

Newton said, "I have seen men do much sillier things on far less provocation, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth just nodded, and said, "Well, unless Mr. Bingley comes back to court Jane, I imagine I shall never see him again, so it all becomes a bit of a moot point."

Mary giggled, and said, "Moot but highly entertaining."

Elizabeth said, "Perhaps to you, Mary… perhaps to you. However, I have thought of an idea that Mr. Occam would find just as reasonable, which requires far less suspension of disbelief."

Mr. Newton said, "Go on."

Elizabeth stared at the ground, and said, "Well, last night at the Netherfield Ball, my mother went on and on and on and on about how my sister would soon be Mistress of Netherfield… all within Mr. Darcy's hearing. I could not get her to shut up, or even moderate her voice. My two youngest sisters are loud and boisterous at the best of times, but really outdid themselves last night. Perhaps, he simply decided to take his friend away from an apparently mercenary family."

Mary gasped, and said, "But, Mr. Bingley spent hours and hours with Jane. He must know that is not true."

Elizabeth said, "Perhaps he does, and perhaps he does not… but _Mr. Darcy most certainly does not!_ Mr. Bingley does not seem to me to be the most resolute of men. He might very well be easily dissuaded."

Mary sighed, stared at the ground, and said, "Mr. Occam is satisfied, Lizzy… most distressingly so."

"Yes, Mary. He is!"


	9. Mitigation

_A/N: A couple of reviewers have asked for the Easter Eggs. The Notting Hill Easter Egg was "Tempting… but… no.", which is what Anna said to the guy trying to steal a book towards the end of the movie. "Anything not allowed is prohibited" is from 1984, which is the quintessential dystopian novel. For today's segment, I'm going to do something the software for this site really does not make easy. It's moderately geeky though. Let's see how bad it turns out. Probably won't work well on a phone in portrait mode, but should be OK in landscape._

_Wade_

* * *

Mr. Newton asked, "What, if anything should I tell my employer or Mr. Darcy about the events of the day?"

The sisters glanced at each other, and Elizabeth said emphatically, "Nothing!"

Mary said, "I agree, although our reasons may be slightly different. Shall we start with your employer? Mr. Bingley has been courting my sister for six weeks, quite vigorously. He told her he was going to Town for a few days. He will either return, or he will not. Agreed?"

Everyone nodded.

"Now, we all know that his sister and friend have left, so in a few days' time, we shall know if he is a resolute and trustworthy man. We will know whether he trusts his own intellect or his pernicious sisters and haughty friend."

Everyone nodded again.

"We have already established that telling him of the incident might cost your young hothead his position, and Elizabeth and I are not willing to be a part of such a scheme over a little bit of mud. We are not strangers to the wash house, so we can clean our own dresses with none the wiser. So, this prohibits you telling _him_, or anyone in the household for that matter. However, even if that were not the case, I still believe I would be against it."

Kep scrunched his eyes and asked, "Might I ask why, Miss Mary?"

"Because remaining silent will bring clarity and telling him would bring more mud. If you tell him about this incident, he will be _honor bound_ to return to apologize, if nothing else. He will be honor bound to deal with his sister, which he has never shown any inclination to do. In short, he would return, and we would know nothing more than the fact that he has a very basic and minimal sense of either honor or embarrassment. We would never know if he returned because of the report of his sister's actions, or on his own merits."

Mr. Newton said, "And if we remain silent, and he returns, then it indicates that he is returning by his own design, probably over the objections of his sisters. You then know something more of his worthiness; or more likely your sister will, since it is her that will have to decide how to deal with him."

"Correct on all counts, Sir. Jane will know what happened here within the hour. She will then have more knowledge than she does now and can make her choices accordingly."

Kep said, "It all makes sense, Miss Mary. Do you agree, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth said, "Yes, although my purposes are slightly more devious than Mary's. You see, Sir, goodness is not evenly distributed in our family. I believe Mary and Jane got the lion's share. I get by on what is left over."

"I am shaking in my boots", Kep said with a grin.

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Do you object to knowing of my deviousness?"

Mr. Newton said, "We shall insist on it, Ladies."

Elizabeth said, "There are two possibilities. Mr. Bingley will return, or he will not. He will not know of this incident, so it will not affect his decision."

"Agreed"

"Well, if he returns, then he shows he is a man of his word. He has some unfortunate connections in his sisters, but Mary and I would be ill advised to throw stones on that score."

Mary giggled, and said, "No, indeed!"

Kep looked perplexed, and Mary said helpfully, "If you knew our youngest sisters, you would understand."

He nodded in understanding, while Mr. Newton just chuckled.

Elizabeth continued, "So, in that case, Mary's and my involvement in the entire affair will be over, and nothing more need be said. I shall leave my elder sister to deal with her potential suitor as she chooses, and should something more evolve in their relationship, I shall let her choose how to deal with the sisters at her leisure."

"A sensible philosophy, if I may say so", agreed Mr. Newton.

Elizabeth stared at the ground for a moment, and finally said, "Now, I am coming to the devious part. What happens if he does _not_ return?"

Mary looked at her critically, as if the very thought had never occurred to her.

Elizabeth said, "He has already lost any opportunity to communicate with my sister and maintain propriety. He would be bound to communicate through intermediaries, most likely his sisters. We may very well have a note from his sisters on our return to the house, which I will assume is all lies. It will take a few days before we know if he is returning or not, correct?"

Mary agreed, while the men nodded as well.

Elizabeth said, "I do really hope it does not come down to that, but if it does, I need information to help my sister deal with the repercussions. This may be my last chance to get it, so with your permission, allow me to explain my thinking."

Elizabeth walked to a spot in the road with a few feet of clean and undisturbed mud, and said, "Allow me to display my reasoning graphically. Mr. Newton, would you agree that emotional state, pain, love, that sort of thing can be represented in a very rough way mathematically."

"Of course, it can. My namesake would turn over in his grave at the slight doubt showed by even asking the question."

Elizabeth said, "Now, let us say that Mr. Bingley does not come back after so publicly courting my sister. I know Jane. She will believe that she did something wrong. She did not show her feelings enough, or was not a clever enough conversationists, or her musical skills were lacking, or our family was lacking (which is the only true point), or something along those lines. My mother will lament his loss to the ends of the Earth and start measuring the hedgerows to work out where she will have to live when my father dies, probably within the fortnight."

Mary sighed dramatically, and said, "I agree, Lizzy."

"It gets worse. The neighborhood will concoct all the same elements and use their 79% chatter to remind her of it constantly. She will be constantly subject to _derision for disappointed hopes._ Our mother will feed the gossip, which will further inflame our mother, which will further… you get my drift. It will become a vicious circle. People will deride her for feeling poorly, which will make her feel worse, and so on. Do you concur, Sir?"

Kep said, "I have seen it happen, Miss Elizabeth. I believe you are correct. I do not know your sister, but it does sound like the way this sort of thing would play out."

Mary said, "I do believe you are right, Lizzy. You or I would laugh it off and be right as rain in a month, but Jane will suffer for some time."

Elizabeth said, "So let me show you how it will all come to pass. I shall make an atrocious job of it but let me try."

Elizabeth poked her hand out of the front of her greatcoat, picked up a stick and started drawing a very rough graph.

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She laughed, and said, "Well, that is quite ugly, but I think you take my meaning. She will feel all the bad emotions –hurt, shame, embarrassment. I believe these emotions follow a more or less ballistic trajectory. It will start out mildly bad when she hears the news, escalate as the gossip spreads, and then gradually, over several months, return to baseline."

Newton looked at the graph, and said, "Crude, but effective, Miss Elizabeth. Now, I suppose you would equate the area under the curve with total suffering?"

"Yes, Sir."

Mr. Newton took the stick and scratched in the area referred to, so they could all agree.

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x ●XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX●●●  
x`

Elizabeth said, "Very rough, but it does show what I wanted to convey. A lot of suffering over a long time. It is the way my sister is, and I would not change her for the world. Now, do you mind if I ask a question that might allow me to propose a slightly _different_ curve, Mr. Newton? I will ask you not to violate any personal ethical standards, so simply do not answer if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Ask your question, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth stared at the ground for a moment, and said, "Does Mr. Bingley do this sort of thing… err… often?"

She was so embarrassed by the question, she just stared at the ground for a moment, and then said, "Please, forget I said that, Sir. It is an impertinent question and asking for such solicitous gossip is making me shiver."

Mr. Newton said in a very soft voice, "All right, Miss Elizabeth. By your desire, I will not answer the question. May I ask you one?"

"Of course!"

"Your sister. She is the tall, blond, attractive one?"

"Yes."

"Now, just one more question. Being a bit of a scientist, it would be sloppy to assume that she shares your surname. Is your sister Miss Bennet, Miss Markham, Miss Waverly, Miss Simpson, Miss Underwood or Miss Beauchamp?"

Elizabeth gasped, and said, "I applaud your thoroughness, Sir. She is Miss Bennet, but I assume you needed a disambiguator because of all the possibilities for a tall blonde being courted by Mr. Bingley."

Newton said, "Yes, ma'am. I would never gossip, but I wanted to be prepared to greet your sister properly should I ever meet her."

Elizabeth chuckled, and said, "Clever, Mr. Newton. I thank you."

Kep asked, "Why the graph, Miss Elizabeth. I presume you are working your way up to that?"

"Yes, Kep, I am."

Elizabeth walked back over to the graph, and said, "The emotions we were discussing before have rather long decay rates – something like a cannonball fired at a low angle at high speed. It takes time for the air to slow it down, so it travels for quite some time before it comes to ground, agreed?"

"Yes, I can see that."

Elizabeth chuckled, and said, "This is not the perfect metaphor, but suppose I point that same cannon almost straight into the air."

Kep took up the stick, and said, "Its trajectory would be much higher, and it would come down much sooner and closer to the source."

He then drew his best guess for the equation and decided that drawing graphs in the mud in the road was harder than it sounded.

x  
x ·····◊◊  
x ····◊···◊  
x ···◊····◊  
x ··◊······◊·····················●·●·●·●●  
x ··◊······◊···············●XXXXXXXXX●●●●  
x ··◊······◊··········● XXXXXXXXXXXXXX ●●●  
x ·◊·······◊····●·· XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX●●●  
x ·◊·······●◊XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX●●●  
x ·◊·●··●XX◊XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX●●●  
x ●XXXXXXX◊XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX●●●  
x

Then he added, "If your 'area under the curve' works, Miss Elizabeth, you can see that both the length of time spent suffering, and the total amount of suffering is dramatically reduced."

x  
x ·····◊◊  
x ····◊#◊  
x ···◊##◊  
x ··◊###◊···················●·●·●·●●  
x ··◊###◊············●XXXXXXXXXX●●●●  
x ··◊###◊·········● XXXXXXXXXXXXXX ●●●  
x ·◊####◊····●·· XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX●●●  
x ·◊####◊XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX●●●  
x ·◊####◊XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX●●●  
x ◊#####◊XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX●●●  
x

Mary said, "All right, Elizabeth, I will go along with the mathematics, and perhaps I will even give you that it is possible to _very roughly_ model human emotions using the same arithmetic as cannonballs. Now, how do you propose to change the first graph to the second one."

Elizabeth said, "Well, my completely unproven and halfway crazy hypothesis says that specific emotions have different velocities and decay rates. The first curve is my approximation for the toxic combination of hurt, shame and embarrassment."

"All right, I will tentatively agree. Mr. Newton? Kep?"

The men looked and agreed that the model was likely as good as they were going to get in such a poor laboratory.

Mary asked the obvious question, "So, what do you plan to use to replace those long‑decay emotions?"

Elizabeth said, "Rage!"

Mary gasped, and practically yelled, "Rage! Explain!"

Elizabeth said, "Well, I for one am fed up with people treating us like helpless females. We deserve our own share of knowledge and power. Mr. Bingley targeted Jane for his attention, so I believe she needs to know all we know so she can determine how to act. I will draw this graph for Jane and explain exactly what happened with Mr. Bingley and his sisters, along with my theory of how she may choose to act. Jane keeps her temper firmly under control so well I doubt you have ever seen it Mary, but I can assure you it is there, and I can activate it. She will be murderous, much like Ivar the Boneless if he abandons her without a word; and she will receive him with her eyes wide open if he returns."

Mary furrowed her brow in distaste, but she could find no opposition to the plan.

Elizabeth continued, "You and I will then mitigate the gossip by telling the neighborhood exactly what happened, including today's incident, and the endlessly repeated gossip that fills the neighborhood and even leaks into Town will be of an entirely different nature. If it comes to it, I believe Aunt Gardiner can even get it mentioned in the circles they inhabit, which may well cause some reciprocal discomfort."

Mary stared at the graph, and said, "You are right, Elizabeth. You did get all the deviousness."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "It would appear so. I am not proud of the idea, but I will implement it without qualms."

Kep laughed, and said, "I believe you misunderstand, Miss Elizabeth. Your sister was offering praise, not censure."

All four laughed at the jest, and Mr. Newton said, "Well, Miss Elizabeth. I am glad that I did not share any solicitous gossip with you."

They all laughed again, and Elizabeth said, "Well, Mr. Newton. Kep, it has been a pleasure, but Mary is betrothed less than two hours, and if we want to keep this incident private until the right moment, we will need to get back into Longbourn without being seen."

Mr. Newton took his chin in his hands, and said, "Well, let us do this. Are you willing to ride with just Kep and I? If not, I can go into Meryton and engage a maid for an hour."

"We will be happy to ride with you, Sir."

Newton said, "Do you know Mrs. Morris, the housekeeper at Netherfield… and more to the point, do you trust her?"

"We know her well and trust her."

"Well, then Kep and I will take you to Netherfield, and trust Mrs. Morris to hide you away. Kep sometimes works as a footman, so he can put on the livery and ride over to Longbourn with a trusted maid to get you some clothes. You can write a note for your elder sister, and Kep will bring her back with clean clothes and the maid. I have Netherfield household funds, so I can give the maid a bit extra for her service and her silence. Mrs. Morris can probably arrange for some discreet baths, and to get your dresses laundered."

Elizabeth said, "That is very good thinking, Mr. Newton. Jane will also know how to keep any gossip from spreading throughout Longbourn, and this whole incident will be under our direction."

Mary said, "We thank you for your kind assistance, Mr. Newton and Kep. I do hope this will not affect you in any way."

"Of course not. Nobody knows when we left or when we are expected. Mrs. Morris will keep things quiet, and all will be well… or as well as it can be, given the circumstances."

Mary and Elizabeth were both feeling fairly warm and dry, though not ready to give up their greatcoats and blankets. Kep ran back to drop the tailgate of the wagon, then lifted each sister in turn up so they could sit on the back with their legs hanging over for the short ride back to Netherfield.

There was a fortunate turnaround a hundred yards away, so within five minutes they were on their way back to the manor house.

As expected, Mrs. Morris was happy to see them. Elizabeth and Mary explained as much of the incident as they felt they could. True to Mr. Newton's conjecture, everything was sorted out and they were ready to return to Longbourn two hours later.

Elizabeth, true to her word, explained the entire thing to Jane. Against Mary's advice, she even outlined her devious plan to replace heartbreak with rage, although she took the trouble to draw a proper graph with pen and paper. Jane took it all as well as could be expected.

Kep drove all three sisters in a phaeton that was staying on the property. They thanked him very kindly, wished him well, and admonished him not to break anything while he was handing out lessons in driving coaches.

All three sisters were pensive as they returned to Longbourn. Elizabeth was happy to see Mary's face break out in the biggest smile she had seen in some time when Mr. Collins greeted her with all the effusions of happiness any woman could ask from a suitor.

Elizabeth was also interested to see that quite a lot of Mr. Collins's verbosity and awkward manners seemed to have been drained out. She wondered at that – perhaps the man was just nervous and was reverting to his more typical behavior. She reckoned Mary would tell her sooner or later.

Soon after their return, Jane received a letter. It was fortunate that only the three sisters were in the parlor to receive it, so Jane could read it in relative privacy while her sisters watched in open curiosity.

Elizabeth watched Jane's face go from interest, to suspicion, to a ferocious frown. The next thing she knew, a vein on Jane's temple that nobody but Elizabeth knew was there started throbbing, and she started seeing Jane make fists with her hands.

A few minutes later, Jane went back to the top of the letter, read it one more time, stood up and walked over to a table containing a pen and inkpot. Elizabeth watched curiously as Jane laid the letter facedown and drew a quick graph on the back.

x ·····◊◊  
x ····◊#◊  
x ···◊##◊  
x ··◊###◊  
x··◊####◊  
x ·◊####◊  
x ·◊#####◊  
x ·◊#####◊  
x ·◊######◊  
x ◊#######◊  
x

Jane stared at the graph for a minute or so, then said, "Rage it is!"

Then she balled up the letter in her fist, threw it in the fire and walked from the room.


	10. Rage

_A/N: One more long chapter of geekiness, then we'll have some more typical story (well, as typical as I can be with this theme). I just couldn't resist Jane in a rage (though I did it once before in TCoH). _

_This chapter demonstrates another scientific principle: The Law of Unintended Consequences. I didn't really plan to use Jane in this story at all, and I just added her as an excuse to graph out Lizzy's strategy for reducing the time of her suffering. Now however, I feel honor bound to give her at least something of a story. There's more to Jane's story later, but see how you like this bit of OOC. Wade_

* * *

**"EEEEENOUGH!"**

Even if Jane's shout had not been loud enough to start the hounds barking, the crash as both of her fists hit the dining table hard enough to rattle all the plates on both sides of her and knock over her own wine glass would have been sufficient to get _anyone's _attention. It even stopped Kitty and Lydia from bickering, and left the table covered in deathly silence.

Mrs. Bennet had been blathering on alternately about wedding plans and Mr. Bingley for the three weeks since the Netherfield ball. Mary and Mr. Collins were fortunately due to escape the madness within the week, as their wedding was scheduled for just before the Yuletide. They had called the banns on the 1st of December, the first opportunity after the proposal. Since both were more inclined to start their married life than to listen to endless lectures about the absolute necessity of a perfect wedding, they scheduled the wedding for the 20th of December so their beloved Aunt and Uncle Gardiner could attend. The three weeks had been filled with wedding preparations, but not nearly filled enough to keep Mrs. Bennet from fretting about Mr. Bingley.

"Do you think Mr. Bingley will return?"  
"Where do you think he could have gone?"  
"Do not Miss Bingley have the finest dresses and lace you have ever seen?"  
"He must have been delayed with business, and he will return as soon as it is done."  
"I cannot wait to see Mr. Bingley again. I am certain you shall be mistress by the spring."  
"Oh, Jane… I cannot wait. You cannot have been too beautiful for nothing."

Three weeks of gentle dissuasion, more strident dissuasion, begging, pleading, intervention by her sisters nor any other action could derail Mrs. Bennet for any length of time until Jane Bennet reached her absolute limit."

"ENOUGH, I say. Enough and more than enough and doubly more than enough. **Do you understand?**"

"Oh, Jane, I cannot imagine what you are rattling on about. Mr. Bingley will…"

**"EEEEENOUGH!"**

The second yell and fist on the tables finally purchased the family's silence and undivided attention, so Jane continued."

"There is a new rule in this house. The name 'Bingley' shall never again be spoken in my presence – **EVER**!"

Everyone looked at her in shock, except for Lizzy and Mary. Those sisters were wondering which point in the ballistic curve they were currently observing. Were they near the apogee and Jane would soon descend from her madness, or would the cannonball continue to rise until it brought on Ragnarök?

Jane said, "That man will not return, Mother. Get that through your head. He will not return."

Regaining some indignation, Mrs. Bennet said, "How do you know…"

Jane interrupted her by slapping the table, but this time she used the flat of her hand, partly because it was ever so slightly more decorous, but mostly because her two previous outbursts had _hurt._"

She said, "Listen well, Mother. Listen without interrupting, or so help me, you will regret it. Do you really want to know?"

Mrs. Bennet stared at this incarnation of her most compliant daughter in shock, so her father took up the office of answering for the couple.

"Well, Jane… it seems you have been learning from your younger sisters. Good girl. I was hoping to see some fire from you. Will you enlighten us?"

Jane saw the hidden smirk in his countenance, and decided she disliked it almost as much as her mother's endless prattling. Her father was enjoying his amusement at her expense, and she was quite fed up with it. It was time to wipe it off his face.

Jane said, "All right, I shall enlighten you, but do not interrupt with prattle. I will entertain _intelligent _questions only."

She took a deep breath and began.

"First things first - it has been three weeks without a word, except for the letter from his sister the day after they left."

Mrs. Bennet gasped, and said, "What letter? If he sent you a letter, or asked his sister to, it means…"

Jane slapped the table again, just because it had worked before and nothing else had ever shut her mother up.

"Mama, that letter is my business. That man, _whose name will not be spoken in my hearing again,_ will not be back, and if he did return, I would sick the dogs on him. This is non‑negotiable."

Mrs. Bennet sat up like a snake ready to strike, and practically shouted, "I shall not be dictated to in my own home."

Jane looked at her quite calmly, and said, "Very well, Mama – have it your way, but understand the costs before you say anything else. I plan to return to Town with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner after the new year. If, however, I hear that name even once between now and then, I have a valise packed and sitting in my room. I will leave within the hour, walk to Meryton, and take the next post coach. As I said, this is not negotiable, and this is your final warning."

Mrs. Bennet gasped, and said, "You do not set the rules in this house."

Jane stared back at her and said, "If I hear that name, I will _no longer be a resident of this house_. I have already written to the Gardiners for permission. If you cannot respect me enough to follow my wishes for a few weeks, I shall eventually marry from Gracechurch Street _without your involvement_."

Mr. Bennet said, "Well, you are of age Jane, so you may do as you please. Quite frankly, I am all for it."

Elizabeth and Mary both looked at each other with frowns. It was clear that Mr. Bennet was in favor of _any_ plan that reduced his effort or expense. This was just more of the same thing they had been getting from their father all their lives, and they were not impressed in the least.

"But why", Mrs. Bennet asked?

Jane stood up from her chair, put her hands flat on the table and leaned over towards her mother, and asked, "Do you really want to know, Mother? Do you really want to know? Rest assured, you will not like it."

"You will not talk to me that way!"

Jane sat back down and said, "Very well, conversation over. Just do not mention that name again. Lizzy, might you pass more wine. I seem to have spilled mine."

Elizabeth complied, but Mrs. Bennet was not finished. The matron said with some indignation, "_You will tell me right now, Jane Bennet. I did not raise you to talk to your mother this way._"

Jane stared at her and said, "Mother, Lydia talks to you that way every day of her life. I can assure you, that you have raised us to talk to you in such a manner. You are just surprised because your three elder daughters _usually choose not to_, but we are quite capable. Now, this subject will be closed forever within this quarter hour. Do you want to know or not?"

Mrs. Bennet said, "Very well, explain yourself."

Mr. Bennet added, "Yes, you have my curiosity, Jane."

Jane said, "All right, I will, though I doubt it will give you very much satisfaction."

Jane looked over at a maid who was standing in the corner trying to look invisible and asked gently, "Sally, would you bring me a pencil from the parlor and parchment, and then you may retire to the kitchen for your own dinner. Please ensure that nobody returns until we ring for you."

Sally nodded and practically ran for the parlor.

While she was waiting, Jane began.

"I am going to explain it to you Mother and Father, using a technique Uncle Gardiner taught me. I was with him when he was trying to work out a business difficulty. Let me give you the outlines."

Jane looked around to be sure everyone was paying attention and began.

"Let us start with the obvious. Mr. Bingley paid _particular_ attention to me for six weeks, left promising to return in a few days, and did not come back. We can all agree that paints him in a very bad light, and if you wish to gossip about his lack of constancy, you are welcome to do so _outside of my hearing._ While I am at it, let me extend the embargo to Lizzy and Mary, who also wish to be done with the Netherfield party. Agreed?"

The sharp edge on the last word, almost a command, made everyone at the table nod.

Jane continued, "Now that we can agree that his manners are very bad, and his constancy is in serious doubt, let us move to the other topic."

Sally arrived with pencil and parchment, and then headed down the stairs, shutting the door behind her.

Mary helpfully asked, "The next topic, Jane?"

Jane said, "Yes, let us turn to the question of why he left. Perhaps some of you have ideas, but I will give my opinion. He left because he is either a _spineless worm_, or he is a _sensible man_. I do not believe we can choose between them with the information we have, but we do have enough to document those two possibilities quite well."

Mrs. Bennet gasped at the language, as mild as it was, and Lydia giggled and laughed, "Spineless worm – that is perfect. I vote for that one."

Mary said, "I favor that one myself, as does Mr. Occam."

Elizabeth said, "Indeed, that is a good explanation, but I must point out that the two explanations are not mutually exclusive. He may have left and stayed away because of practicality, but he did not take his leave properly or communicate his decision because he is a spineless worm, or perhaps something just short of that – perhaps a slug or snail.

Everyone laughed at the jest, though somewhat nervously.

Mary said, "Jane, show the evidence for him being sensible, but before you do that, allow me to ask something. Lizzy, purely on the topic of sensibleness, how would you rate Mr. Darcy? You know him better than anyone else here."

Elizabeth was startled by the question, but she gave it her full attention for a moment while everyone waited.

"I would rate him quite high. He is overly proud, punctilious, haughty, overbearing and socially awkward – but from what I have seen of his business dealings, his relations with his sister and several discussions I had with him at Netherfield, I would say he is quite level‑headed. I could assert that he is the second most intelligent man I know."

Mr. Bennet said, "High praise indeed, Elizabeth. I am happy to know that I am still at the top of the list, though."

Mary said, "I think not, Papa. Uncle Gardiner is the _most_ intelligent man we know."

Mr. Bennet's face fell, but Elizabeth hopefully added, "You do make it third if that helps, Papa."

Kitty asked, "Why this talk of Mr. Darcy?"

Mary said, "Because Kitty, I believe Jane is trying on the theory that Mr. Bingley might act as a _sensible_ man would. Since Mr. Darcy is his advisor, it may be sufficient for Mr. Darcy to have any sagacity that Mr. Bingley may lack."

Jane said, "Exactly my thinking. Without delving into the particulars of who does the analysis, let us measure the state of play. Uncle Gardiner always says to evaluate any proposition with a clear‑eyed look at the positives and negatives. Since we treat marriage much like a business deal, let us see what we have to offer."

Jane took out the parchment and said, "First we need to make lists of positives and negatives, and then try to assign some type of overall evaluation."

Jane made some headings on the paper and started writing.

"Now, let us see what we have. On the positive side, I am gently born, estate raised and according to the current fashion, fairly beautiful. I have an agreeable disposition."

* * *

POSITIVES  
\+ Gentlewoman  
\+ Estate Raised and Trained  
\+ Handsome Enough  
\+ Agreeable

NEGATIVES

* * *

Mrs. Bennet said, "That says it all, Jane, though why you refuse to write down that you are the most beautiful girl in the county is beyond me. Who could ask for more?"

Jane said, "Indeed, who could? Let us explore that topic. Do you mind if I borrow one of Lizzy's mathematical tricks? I am going to use what is called a _Bar Graph_. It is like a stack of biscuits. It is quite easy to see if one stack is higher, or the relative merits of one stack versus another. Let us start with basics."

Jane drew the outline for a graph, and Elizabeth looked at her mother to see if she was likely to faint.

Jane continued, "Let us begin with fortune. Dowries are not _quite_ as vulgar as they sound. At first blush, it sounds like the gentleman is buying livestock; but in truth, dowries bring _something from the woman's family to pass on to her heirs_, so they have something of their maternal family's fortune. It is a way for parents to pass their fortune to _all_ their children. It is an odd and inefficient way to do it, but it _is how it is done, correct?_"

She looked around as if daring anyone to contradict her, paused and continued.

"Miss Bingley's dowry is £20,000, or about 4 years' income for her guardian. I believe Miss Darcy's is £30,000, which is about 3 years' worth. Mr. Collins asserts that Miss de Bourgh's is also about 3 years' of Rosing's income. Mama's dowry of £5,000 would have been at least five years of Grandfather Gardiner's income, though most of it came from our great grandmother. None of these guardians will make any bones about paying out that amount, and Uncle Gardiner says that those are about normal in their circles."

Once again, she paused to be sure everyone was following. Her father looked on in interested amusement, while her mother looked on in confusion, but gathering temper.

"All of this means that Mr. Bingley could _reasonably expect_ a bride to bring in 2-4 years of her father's income. In Mr. Darcy's case, he might even expect more. He could go for the daughter of a country squire, like us, or a richer woman from another trade. Any family higher on the gentry is probably outside of his reach because of his current social status. That says _Mr. Bingley could reasonably expect a bride to bring around £5-20,000. _Let us show that graphically as a bar.

|  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|xxxxx

Jane said, "Do not worry about the scale, let us just say that is his _reasonable expectation._"

The Bennet parents were starting to look distinctly uncomfortable, but Jane carried on relentlessly.

"He is trying to leave the world of trade and become a landed gentleman, so he could also expect some reasonable connections. At the very least, a gentlewoman would raise his standing, but a somewhat well‑off gentlewoman with a few connections would be even better, both for him and for their children. We are comparing unlike things but let us just say that is worth _something and give it one more bit at the top_."

She drew another bar on the top of the graph.

|  
|–**OOO**  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|xxxxx

"Now, let us suppose that he comes into the neighborhood and meets a lady. He cannot ask her what her dowry or connections are straight away, so he just assumes they are about normal. Perhaps they are not quite what he could expect, but then are at least what might be expected from an estate such as this."

Surprising everyone, Jane pulled out Lizzy's calculations she had done with Mary before the great mudbath incident.

Jane spread it out, and said, "Lizzy showed me how dreadfully easy it would have been to have £4‑8,000 for each of us with just a bit of economy and diligence on our parent's part. Charlotte and Maria have close to that. Even the Long nieces have £2,000. Or maybe we could have more for the first married to secure a future for the others, if our parents were not such spendthrifts. That would be quite a bit short of what Mr. Bingley _could_ get, but not so bad. Let us show that."

Jane busied herself with the pencil as she continued.

"And of course, he could reasonable expect that a well-behaved daughter of a gentleman would bring _some_ connections, or at least the ability to manage an estate properly, so we shall give due credit for that.."

|  
|–OOO  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX––––**OOO**  
|–XXX––––**XXX**  
|–XXX––––**XXX**  
|–XXX––––**XXX**  
|xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You can see that it is short of what the man _could_ get, but still adequate enough, and if he really esteemed the woman and liked the family, it could work."

Jane looked around the room and stared at each person in turn, and then continued.

_"Here is what he actually found", _and then she went in a completely unexpected direction.

She first added a new line, and said, "No dowry, at all!"

|  
|–OOO  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX––––OOO  
|–XXX––––XXX  
|–XXX––––XXX  
|–XXX––––XXX  
|xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_  
_|–––––––––––––––**OOO**  
|–––––––––––––––**OOO**  
|–––––––––––––––**OOO**

"As you can see, this is negative, so we are starting out on the entirely wrong side of the graph."

She stared around to be sure everyone was grasping her point.

"Let us add a vulgar and mercenary mother who spent the entire evening of his ball boasting about how her daughter had 'captured' him like a pig being brought to the slaughter, and how she would be the next mistress, and how handsome his 5,000 a year was, and on and on and on – all within hearing of his much more sensible friend, _despite_ her second daughter's _greatest_ efforts to teach her some decorum."

She stared at her mother hard, and relentlessly carried on.

"Let me repeat a very few of the exact words, if I may. _'What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say nothing he may not like to hear.'_"

Seething in anger, Jane stared at her mother, and asked, "Now tell me, Mother, what man would want his friend to attach himself to a family after such an exhibition. I would consider him derelict in his duty of friendship if he did not at least report the conversation and suggest caution."

Jane drew a few more negative bars, as she continued relentlessly.

|  
|–OOO  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX––––OOO  
|–XXX––––XXX  
|–XXX––––XXX  
|–XXX––––XXX  
|xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
|–––––––––––––––OOO  
|–––––––––––––––OOO  
|–––––––––––––––OOO  
|–––––––––––––––**OOO**  
|–––––––––––––––**OOO**

"In addition to the vulgarity, Mr. Darcy would work out that whoever marries one of us has a better than even chance he would end up supporting a spendthrift mother‑in‑law after her indolent husband dies, for _years_, and possibly some unmarried daughters as well, since they have no money saved, and have allowed the dower house to fall into ruin."

|  
|–OOO  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX––––OOO  
|–XXX––––XXX  
|–XXX––––XXX  
|–XXX––––XXX  
|xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
|–––––––––––––––OOO  
|–––––––––––––––OOO  
|–––––––––––––––OOO  
|–––––––––––––––OOO  
|–––––––––––––––OOO  
|–––––––––––––––**OOO**  
|–––––––––––––––**OOO**

Jane looked quite sad but continued.

"And then, let us add two younger sisters who give every indication they will disgrace the family before another year is out, because neither of their parents have the desire or fortitude to check them, and constantly interfere in their more sensible sisters' efforts at correction. They flirt constantly and publicly, drink too much and are complete strangers to decorum."

|  
|–OOO  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX  
|–XXX––––OOO  
|–XXX––––XXX  
|–XXX––––XXX  
|–XXX––––XXX  
|xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
|–––––––––––––––OOO  
|–––––––––––––––OOO  
|–––––––––––––––OOO  
|–––––––––––––––OOO  
|–––––––––––––––OOO  
|–––––––––––––––OOO  
|–––––––––––––––OOO  
|–––––––––––––––**OOO**

Finally, Jane looked around the room, and said, "I only had two sisters that behaved politely and decorously at the ball. Is it any wonder he might have been convinced against me, either by his own inclinations or his friend and sisters."

Elizabeth blushed, stared down at the table, then looked at Jane, squared her shoulders, and said, "Make that one, Jane. I spent most of my dance with Mr. Darcy arguing with him."

Mary said, "I hogged the pianoforte to the point where Papa had to drag me away to allow others to exhibit. I am afraid none of us helped your cause, Jane."

Jane looked at her two next younger sisters, and said, "Perhaps neither of you were perfect, but your indiscretions were noise in the grand scheme of things, like a hangnail when you have been shot. I hold no rancor towards either of you."

Jane looked at her parents critically and continued stridently.

"Twenty-five years you have been married. Fifteen years you have known you had an entailed estate and no heir. And yet, in that time you have not saved a penny for your ultimate demise. You have not lifted a finger to be certain your daughters are well settled. You just expected me to get by on my beauty."

Jane leaned towards her parents, and pointed at the final graph, and said, "Let us say it in words."

* * *

POSITIVES  
\+ Gentlewoman  
\+ Estate Raised and Trained  
\+ Handsome Enough  
\+ Agreeable

NEGATIVES  
\- No Dowry  
\- No Connections  
\- Mercenary Mother  
\- Badly Behaved Family  
\- Probable Future In-Law Support  
\- Likely Embarrassment from Siblings

* * *

She said, "The man may not have seen all of this, but Mr. Darcy would. His sisters are horrid snakes who would try to talk him out of courting me using any trick they could think of, but he would not really listen to them. However, Mr. Darcy _could_ and probably _did_ convince him to at least look at the situation rationally."

Jane blew out a big breath, and said, "At least now, we know. Mr. Bingley left because marrying me would be ill advised, and that is the truth."

She looked hard at her parents, and then down the table at Kitty and Lydia before continuing.

"This one got away. The next one probably will as well. When Aunt and Uncle Gardiner return to Town, I will go with them, and I will find a husband there. Suppose I meet an up and coming tradesman in Town. He will not expect a big dowry, he will not meet the most ill behaved of you until the wedding, and only see you rarely after that.

She took the pencil and marked up her chart, speaking as she went, "I have saved a small amount of my allowance to use as a dowry, as has Lizzy. We both pledged some time ago that the first wed could use all of it. A minor tradesman will see more benefit in a gently born wife than a rich man would, so if I remove the objectionable parts, I stand a better chance."

She took the pencil and marked up the previous page by scratching out the negatives.

* * *

POSITIVES  
\+ Gentlewoman  
\+ Estate Raised and Trained  
\+ Handsome Enough  
\+ Agreeable  
\+ **Small** Dowry

NEGATIVES  
xxxxx - No Dowry xxxxx  
xxxxx - No Connections xxxxx  
xxxxx - Mercenary Mother xxxxx  
xxxxx - Badly Behaved Family xxxxx  
xxxxx - Probable Future In-Law Support xxxxx  
xxxxx - Likely Embarrassment from Siblings xxxxx

* * *

Jane looked around and said, "That is how it shall be. I am nearly on the shelf, and I have had enough."

With a final look around the table, Jane stood up, rang the bell for the servants to come out of hiding and walked from the room.


	11. Siblings

_A/N: Hey gang, very-very interesting reactions to the last couple of chapters. Most of you liked Raging Jane (a nice name I stole from the most recent review) and the setdown of a lifetime. Most even like the geekiness (I suspect I have a corner on the JAFF Geek market)._

_Since you've voluntarily read a story with 'math' in the title, and there is no actual math in this chapter, I'll give you some fun facts to tide you over. I've heard that about 90-95% of FF readers have never written a single review, which is fine. I didn't write reviews either until I started writing. On average, about .4% of my readers of a chapter leave a review. The Raging Jane chapter had 4% - basically 10 times my average rate. In fact, Chapter 10 has the most reviews per page view of any chapter I ever wrote – which complete surprised me. That made me curious, I went back to Chapter 28 of The Cliffs of Hertfordshire (my last Angry Jane) and guess what - it had about double the rate of the rest of the chapters. I guess you guys really like your Jane to be mad. Maybe I should make her a feature of all my stories._

_A couple people asked for more action or a return of Mr. Darcy (technically his first appearance in the long version, since he was already gone at the start of the story). I have 2 more less geeky but almost entirely conversation chapters. Both are entirely devoid of graphs, formulas or even basic arithmetic, and then we'll finally see a change of scenery in Chapter 13 (probably)._

_My chances of ending at my planned length seem slim at this point. There are at least 10 more chapters to go. No spoilers, but I do believe I have a different Hunsford answer than the usual, so let's get there (eventually). _

_Wade_

* * *

"Cousin Jane, Cousin Elizabeth, Cousin Kitty, Cousin Lydia… Good day."

The Bennet sisters were sitting in the parlor following a very awkward breakfast the day after Jane's explosion. Mr. Collins and Mary had gone out for a walk in the garden and were just returning to join the sisters. Mr. Bennet had naturally retired to his usual cave, and Mrs. Bennet was above stairs 'resting'.

Lydia said, "La, Mr. Collins. We will be your sisters in less than a week. Maybe you should just use our given names."

The other sisters were quick to agree, and Mr. Collins smiled hugely, and then said, "I would consider myself privileged if you would call me 'William'."

"Thank you, William, we shall be honored", said Jane, showing more of her normal good humor.

Somewhat surprisingly, Mr. Collins continued, "While we are at it, may I say that My Mary and I have discussed it, and wish to assure you that so long as I draw breath, your mother and any of you who remain unmarried will always be taken care of to the best of our ability."

Surprisingly, Kitty was the first to speak, and she said, "We thank you, William. We all thank you with all our hearts."

Mary smiled indulgently at her sisters and felt some pride that she was to be responsible for ensuring the security for her family. She had, in the past three weeks grown to feel an affection for her betrothed that was quite beyond what she had expected, and she thought that she had quite a life of pride and contentment in front of her. She would obviously have to bring Lady Catherine into compliance with her desires, but she could see no further immediate impediments to her complete happiness.

Lydia said, "Well, that was quite a setdown last night, Jane. How do you feel this morning?"

Everyone stared at Jane in curiosity, and she gave a surprising reply.

"Actually, I am the happiest I have ever been."

Everyone looked quite perplexed, but it was Kitty who finally said, "How so?"

Jane said, "Well, Lizzy managed to wind me up into last night's rage…"

Elizabeth gasped and tried to say something, but Jane held her off by raising her hand.

"You need not deny it, Lizzy. I know when I am being manipulated, but I do not mind… in fact, I shall hold you responsible for my happiness."

Elizabeth said, "Perhaps more detail might make things clearer, Jane."

Jane smiled, and said, "Of course, but I shall need to explain your analogy. You see, Elizabeth _correctly_ worked out that without any knowledge of how things were to play out, I would have taken _that man's _departure as a rejection of me personally. That would have set me into a course of melancholy that might have lasted for months. It is sort of like a fire of stout oak that can burn for hours and hours."

Everyone nodded.

"Elizabeth decided to wind me up with rage, so she set about building a fire out of the same oak but ground up into the finest kindling and soaked in oil. The same wood would burn so hot it might burn the whole village down, but would all be gone in minutes, leaving you back as you started. Does that make sense."

Kitty said, "Like ripping a bandage off."

Lydia helpfully added, "Lancing a boil", and they were off to the races.

"Eating something disagreeable by stuffing your mouth full and swallowing all at once."

"Pulling a rotten tooth."

Jane laughed and said, "All right, all right. You get the picture. Lizzy's analogy was a cannon. You could point it horizontally and the cannonball would travel a long distance, which we were equating with a lot of time… months, probably. If you point it almost straight up, it would go very high, and come down very quickly, not very far from where it started, so there would be stronger emotions but for less time. I used that one."

Elizabeth asked, "So where are we on the curve?"

Jane smiled, and said, "Well, the cannonball went up to the skies last night, then it started coming back down as I spent a good deal of last night thinking."

She gave an unusual looking smile, and continued, "This morning, my metaphorical cannonball came back to the ground, and landed on the rotten door to an abandoned mine, so it crashed through and fell another mile underground. I am far happier than I have ever been, and far happier than I was during my ill‑fated association with _that man,_ because I now have _clarity of thought and purpose_."

Lydia giggled much too loudly, and asked, "So, you have clarity now! Does that mean you have given up on pretending to be a sheep and have decided to enact some revenge? I can hardly wait to hear your plans."

Jane looked at her carefully, while everyone else held their breaths, but when she spoke it was quite gently.

"Lydia, you speak truth so I shall not chastise you, but it would not hurt to learn to speak it more gently from time to time. I was dead‑serious last night when I said that your behavior could ruin all of us."

Lydia gasped, looked thoroughly affronted, and said quite petulantly, "What do you mean? There is nothing wrong with my behavior. Mama says so!"

Jane sighed in exasperation, then surprised everyone by getting up from her chair. She walked over to a side table, poured two glasses of water from the pitcher and carried them back to the sofa along with the ink pot. She then said, "Watch this, Lydia."

She uncapped the inkwell, dipped the pen, and then shook a couple drops of ink into the water. Everyone watched in fascination as the ink dispersed through the water, making the most beautiful swirls as it spread.

She said, "This water is our reputation, ladies. _All our reputations, which are as closely related as our family ties._ It starts clean, but given the wrong actions, it can be tainted in almost no time. Drop a stone in the glass, and it sends some ripples across the water for a time, but then the stone sinks to the bottom and nobody notices it. Add ink, and it permanently colors the entire glass."

She looked around to ensure that everyone was watching the ink disperse, then picked up the glass and swirled it around to make the metaphorical stain on their reputations spread faster.

"Swirling is gossip. It speeds up the process but does not change the outcome."

Jane sat the glass down, reached into her workbasket, pulled out a button and threw it into the second glass. The button was one of the lighter ones, so it made some ripples across the surface, and then slowly sank down to settle on the bottom.

"That button is a minor breach of propriety or manners… the sort of thing that Lydia and Kitty do all the time – bad, but not crippling. It leaves ripples for a while on the surface and clouds the water on the way down. People pay attention it as it splashes and sinks to the bottom but forget it later. Throw in a few and they sit unnoticed on the bottom. Throw in a dozen or throw them in too quickly and the glass seems to be entirely filled with buttons."

The younger sisters looked perplexed, but they were at least paying attention.

Jane said, "Now imagine I dump some mud into the water. Lizzy and Mary have a funny story on that, but we will leave that aside for the moment, and I do not have any mud to demonstrate, but you are all intelligent. Think! What would happen?"

Jane waited patiently, and finally Kitty said, "The whole glass would be muddy for a while, but if you leave it alone long enough, the dirt would all settle at the bottom. The water would never be entirely _clean_ again, but it would not be especially _muddy_."

Jane nodded, and said, "Well done, Kitty. That is how most propriety violations play out. They depend on how much the glass is getting stirred by gossip and innuendo, and how much mud you had to start with, but eventually you will end up with a reputation that is somewhere between pristine clear water and mud. Your three elder sisters have reputations that are nearly pristine - nothing but a few buttons. You and Lydia are somewhere between the buttons and the mud at the moment."

Lydia said, "La, Jane. You are making something out of nothing. We are just having fun. We are buttons at worst."

"Perhaps, Lydia, and perhaps not. When everyone knew you, that was probably true, because all our neighbors are accustomed to girl's silliness. However, that all changed with the arrival of the militia. I can assure you that some of the officers are inkwells disguised as buttons. Most of them flirt with you just because Mama invites them to eat. They do not eat a tenth as well in the mess, and they cannot afford better. It is worth putting up with some prattle to be well fed and entertained."

Lydia was staring at her but saying nothing, so Jane continued.

"However, Lydia, I can assure you that there are some things a man would take from a woman given a chance that can ruin her life forever. Your constant flirting and competitions with Kitty to be even looser are almost certain to send the message that you will do _more_ than flirting. I can assure you that there are men who would be most willing to supply all the ink it takes to turn that glass black as night. Be warned, Sisters! Your behavior can cast a very long shadow."

Lydia huffed, and said, "You exaggerate, Jane. We are just having fun."

Jane said, "Yes, and Marsha Blackburn was just having fun. Did it turn out well for her? Do you even remember her?"

Kitty and Lydia gasped, and said, "But we would never… we would never…"

When they ran out of words for the first time in history, Jane leaned forward and said, "She would never either. All she did was some innocent flirting, and decided to meet a man alone… deliberately, just to have a bit more fun. It ended very badly as you may recall."

Kitty said, "Is that truly what you think of us, Jane?"

Jane looked thoughtful for quite some time, and said, "It is not what I _feel_ for you. You are my sisters and I love you, but when Lizzy forces me to think rationally for a time, I can see a road to ruin that both of you are toying with. I suggest you get off it, because it is a very steep road. Once you step on it and start down the hill, it is nearly impossible to stop or get off."

Lydia said, "Truly, Jane?"

"Truly, Lydia. I am sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings, but that is the world we live in."

The two youngest sat in contemplative silence for some time, and the eldest were happy to leave the conversation entirely in Jane's hands.

Jane finally said, "Let us examine it from a different angle. Who is the happiest couple you know? I do not mean the richest, or most consequential, or the handsomest… who is happiest?"

Lydia thought a moment, and finally said, "Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, I suppose. It is certainly not our parents. They can barely stand to be in the same room together. The Lucases are somewhat better, but still not especially happy, I think. Yes… I can see it is the Gardiners."

Kitty said, "I never saw it before, but I do believe Lydia has the right of it."

Jane gently asked, "Well, girls… it seems you believe that the Gardiners are _happy,_ and our parents are _not happy. _ Are we in agreement?"

Jane gently said, "Something I only barely understand now, and did not even remotely comprehend when I was your age, is how _long_ your life will likely be. You have fifteen years right now, which seems like all the time in the world. You will likely live another _fifty or sixty_. Are you willing to sacrifice the sixty years of happiness for a few hours of amusement? Would it not make sense to emulate those that have shown themselves to be _happy_, rather than those that are _miserable_, or worse yet, those that are _ruined?_"

Lydia started to jump up and say something but thought better of it at the last moment at a look from Jane that would have frightened a bear. They thought in contemplative silence for a moment, and then Lydia asked, "I am not saying I agree with you, Jane. But let us suppose I _did_ want to behave more like you say a _lady_ should. How do I learn?"

Jane just laughed, and said, "You have ample teachers, Lydia. I will help you, as will Lizzy and Aunt Gardiner. All you need do is ask, or even just listen when we offer advice for free. But while you are learning, let me suggest a simple trick. Whenever you are going to do something suspect, try to picture in your mind Aunt Gardiner doing that act. If you cannot picture that, then do not do it. Can you picture her running through the house with a stolen bonnet claiming it looks better on her than on its owner?"

"Hear, hear", said Elizabeth and Mary simultaneously.

A few minutes later, being entirely fed up with maudlin thoughts, Lydia said, "Jane, I will give your advice due consideration if you will do something for me."

Jane laughed, but then said, "What is it you wish, Lydia?"

Lydia laughed, back to her old self for the moment, and said, "Well, I want to know what kind of revenge you plan on Mr. Bingley. I can think of a hundred things to make his life miserable if it will help."

Everyone watched Jane for her reaction. Lydia had been the first to say the question, but probably not the first to think it.

Jane gave a small lopsided smile that was less like her usual – in fact, it was a new expression.

She said, "Well, Lydia – I have been thinking of this for some time."

She leaned over conspiratorially, and whispered, "_I have even read several suggestions from Papa's library._"

The younger sisters gasped in surprise that anyone other than Dull Mary or Dull Lizzy would do such a thing, but then both wondered for just a second if Aunt Gardiner would voice such a thought, and the moment to say it passed.

Jane leaned over and said, "Here is what I am going to do."

All her sisters, and even Mr. Collins leaned over to hear her words.

Jane left them hanging for a moment, and finally drew a big breath, and said, "Nothing!"

"Nothing!"

Whether in surprise, disappointment or both, everyone in the room gasped at the answer.

Lydia asked, "But why?"

Jane said, "Well, let me tell you a few things I read. The oldest piece of advice was from a Chinese philosopher named _Confucius _from nearly 2,000 years ago. He is like Aristotle and Plato all rolled into one. He said, _'Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.'_"

Everyone thought about that for a moment while Jane just waited. Finally, Elizabeth asked, "Very wise, I think. I can see at least two meanings. Which do you take, Jane?"

Lydia said, "I only see one."

Jane gently said, "Which do you see, Lydia?"

"Well, suppose I steal a ribbon from Kitty, so she gets angry and takes a _better_ ribbon in revenge, so I take revenge by taking even _better_ lace, and… well, it just goes round and round until one of us is stealing an entire dress."

Everyone laughed at the analogy, and Elizabeth said, "That is a very good expression of one of my thoughts. In _many _contexts, revenge leads _literally_ to death. One man kills another, so someone kills him in revenge and the cycle continues. That has happened many times in history, but as you showed, it happens all the time on a smaller scale with lesser consequences."

Everyone nodded in understanding, especially since Lydia's example was not an abstract analogy, but something that had literally happened recently.

Kitty said, "So, the two graves means that if you enact revenge by killing someone, their friends or family are likely to kill you."

Mary said, "Yes, Kitty, that is the _literal_ interpretation. The other is more figurative. Jane?"

Jane nodded, and said, "Some would say the second grave is for your soul, or your principles. Once you embark on a journey of revenge, _you become someone who seeks revenge_. You become a different, and usually worse person, so the first grave is for your conscience."

Kitty said, "But what if they _deserve_ what they get?"

Jane said, "All actions have consequences, Lydia. If someone was trying to kill you, and you killed them defending yourself, it would not make you a murderer… but it _would _make you someone who has killed and is capable of doing so again. Sometimes you must seek vengeance to deter someone from future aggression, and that is all right so long as the motivation is right. If I revenge myself on those people, I would not be the person I want to be. I do not care to dig the grave for myself. Therefore, I will follow another old aphorism that has been said so many times nobody knows where it started – _'The best revenge is to be happy.'_"

Kitty said, "So you are going to be… happy?"

Jane said, "Yes. That is why my cannonball crashed into the mine and left me happy. I can no longer concern myself with those that were here before, because _they are not important. _My best revenge will be demonstrating their insignificance by moving on with my life, and that is what I intend to do. London has over a million inhabitants. I will go there with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and see if I can meet gentlemen who I have _not_ known since their greatest pleasure was pulling our hair, and I will do it without interference from either of our parents. I am twenty‑two years old now. I am a grown woman, so it is time I started acting like it."

Everyone was slightly surprised when Mr. Collins stood up, clapped his hands several times, and said, "Bravo!"

Lydia and Kitty looked thoughtful for once, and Jane thought it was time to let them think for a bit. She suggested a walk to Meryton. Everyone was dressed, and on the road in a quarter hour. They arrived in fine spirits, full of life and lively conversation, and fortunately, entirely mud free.


	12. Generational Economics

_A/N: There are 2 more Longbourn chapters before our little birdies venture from the nest. I was planning to end with this one, but I was feeling confrontational. If you find it long and tedious, you have only yourselves to blame since you asked for the long version ;)  
Wade_

* * *

"Ah, Lizzy, Marry, William – you are just exactly the three I was looking for."

The three smiled indulgently at their youngest sister. Lydia had apparently taken Jane's chastisement of two days prior to heart and was trying her best to comport herself better. Of course, she was still Lydia, and still but fifteen years old, so 'better' was a relative term; but for the first time in quite a while, Mary and Elizabeth were confident that their two youngest sisters had turned the page on their most selfish and childish behaviors. It remained to be seen whether the changes were temporary or permanent, but they were noticeable.

"What can we do for you", replied Mary?

"Well, I have something I want to show you", Lydia replied, then surprisingly shyly, she asked, "but first I have a question, if you do not mind."

Elizabeth replied gently, "Of course, Liddy. How may we help."

Lydia looked unsure of herself, but then asked, "Tell me about dowries. What do they have to do with…? I mean… I…"

She seemed to run out of words before she was finished, which concerned both Mary and Elizabeth. Lydia _never _stopped in the middle of a sentence. In fact, as a rule, she repeated anything that came into her head a dozen times or more.

Mary said gently, "Sit down, Lydia and tell us what concerns you."

Lydia seemed embarrassed, and said, "Do you remember when I was around twelve or thirteen - I used to sneak around and eavesdrop on everyone?"

Mary said, "I can remember last week…", but then she stopped when she saw Lydia's face fall.

Mary looked contrite, took her sister's hand and said, "I am sorry, Lydia. That was not something Aunt Gardiner would say, was it."

Lydia giggled, and said, "La, 'tis harder than it sounds to be Aunt Gardiner, is it not? I am having a hard time, but I will persevere. In a decade, Papa might even call me the second or third silliest girl in England."

Elizabeth laughed openly, so William joined in, which made her surprisingly happy. The man was growing on her.

Mary said, "So, I diverted you, Lydia. What did your evil eavesdropping reveal?"

Lydia looked around to see that nobody was eavesdropping on _her_, which would be considered an unforgivable sin, and said, "Well, I heard two things of note that year. The first was one day when Papa and Uncle Phillips were in their cups, I think. Papa said, _'I probably should be laying aside an annual sum to bribe worthless young men to marry my silly daughters… what say you, Benjamin?'_"

The other three looked vexed, and stared down for a moment, not knowing how to respond.

Lydia said, "Something made a noise then and I had to scurry away. I never heard the answer."

Lizzy gently said, "That was very unkind of him, Lydia, but as Jane said two nights ago – we do not know what Uncle Phillips suggested, but we do know what Papa did – precisely nothing. He has still not responded to Jane's setdown of two days ago with a single word or deed, so I suspect he never will. Should I explain it?"

"Please, Lizzy."

Elizabeth thought for a moment, and said, "Well, Lydia, I have not thought deeply about it so I could be wrong, but I believe dowries and the entails are related."

Everyone else in the room just shook their head in confusion, so Elizabeth continued.

"You see, well… hmm… let me ask you a question… what do we owe our children?"

None of them had thought deeply about that, and in some cases, at all; but Mary said, "Food on the table, a comfortable home, a good upbringing, a moral education, a profession, a good start in life."

Elizabeth said, "Yes, all that and more. What do you owe your _grandchildren_, or _their grandchildren_?"

They thought some more, and William said, "I imagine it depends on the prominence of your family. At that point, you are not thinking about your grandchildren per se, but I imagine you are thinking about your _family_."

"Exactly, said Elizabeth. You think about your family legacy – _if you can_. A blacksmith probably does not think very much beyond having someone to pass his forge on to, and someone to care for him when he grows old; but he _does_ think of those things if he has any sense. Who do you suppose will take care of him when he is old while his wife may well be dead?"

"His children or grandchildren, I would think", Mary said.

"You would hope so. That is thinking of family dynasties on a small scale. Now, imagine you are someone very high and mighty and important and stuffy and so on and so forth…"

Lydia giggled, showing the world had not run completely amok and said, "Like Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Yes, a perfect example. A man like that inherited an estate that his family has no doubt held for _centuries_. They did not do that accidentally, or by being lackadaisical. He will _definitely_ be thinking about his legacy. It will have been fed to him since birth. He will absolutely be thinking, probably more than you might imagine, about the family holdings he is leaving behind. Would you want to be the Darcy that broke five centuries of upward progress? What sort of alliances does he need to make now for it to be prosperous in 100 or 200 years?"

Everyone shook their heads, although mostly because they had not the slightest idea where Lizzy was going. They presumed they would recognize the end point because she would stop talking.

Elizabeth said, "Now, let us imagine you have an eldest son who is a profligate gambler and wastrel."

Lydia said, "Like Mr. Wickham?"

In surprise, Elizabeth said, "Mr. Wickham!"

Lydia said, "La, Lizzy. I was going to tease you about it, but then I got to wondering if Aunt Gardiner would do that, and the moment passed. We heard in the village that he has been trying to compromise shop girls, and he has run up debts. I am sorry, Lizzy. I know he was your favorite."

Elizabeth laughed, a bit hollowly, and said, "Well, he was a favorite, but I find that I am not very affected by hearing of his nature, so I would assume my heart was not engaged."

Mary said, "Let us not dwell. Lydia indicated we did not have a lot of time."

Somewhat shakily, Elizabeth started trying to put together what she now knew and what she had previously thought about the handsome redcoat, and she found that she could not actually picture the gentleman at all. It was as if her entire acquaintance had been chopped out by a surgeon with nary a scratch."

Shaking her head to restore it, Elizabeth returned to the topic at hand.

"You may not know it, but our grandfather was like that. Our great-grandfather made the entail because he was afraid that his son would squander two hundred years of Bennet residence in a gaming hell. He enacted the entail, so the estate would retain its size and importance. That is what all significant families want. They want their family's wealth and influence to accumulate over the years and generations. If you can have a single son ruin centuries of work in one generation, you never get anywhere. Father is obliged by the entail to pass the estate on to you whole and complete, William. We are just lifetime tenants… little better than _our_ tenants."

Lydia stared in wonder at the revelation, while Mary fidgeted.

Elizabeth continued, "I must confess, William, that I was very concerned when you first appeared."

Surprising everyone, Mr. Collins chuckled, and said, "I do not make the best impression when I am nervous, do I cousins?"

Elizabeth's eyes rose to her hairline, while Mary glanced around the room, and then leaned over and planted a not insignificant kiss on her betrothed's cheek… which she judged to be about the limit of shock value her sisters could experience.

"I was so nervous until you and My Mary saved me that I could hardly think straight, and I know I never said anything that made the slightest bit of sense. I wonder I did not offend everyone in the county."

Elizabeth laughed, and once again decided she should probably disregard all first impressions. She then decided to continue the lesson.

"English law is very peculiar, and all geared towards men. There is little use fretting about it. In a century or two things might be different, but we live where we live. A man cannot pass an estate to a daughter if he has more than one. The best he _might_ do is pass it onto his eldest daughter's eldest son… eventually. Otherwise, it would have to be broken up, and then it would be a bunch of little estates instead of one grand one. His family would lose status and wealth."

Lydia looked at her in wonder, and said, "Well, Lizzy… that… that… well, that actually makes sense."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "Do not feel me so awfully clever, Lydia. I only worked that out recently."

"Still… well, how about dowries."

Elizabeth said, "Well, your daughters are _still _your family, even though they leave their father's home to join their husband's. Families maintain wealth and power through _alliances_, and that is where dowries got a start. Let us go back to our favorite rich ne'er-do-well. William, you say Mr. Darcy's aunt is Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and his mother is the daughter of an Earl. Those are important alliances, and both probably help him maintain his family's wealth and status, agreed?"`

She looked around until all nodded before continuing.

"You could argue that Mr. Darcy's father and Lady Catherine's father in law were bribed to take the Earl's daughters off his hands, but that is not the way of it. The Earl has two families of privilege in his orbit where he can ask support, demand favors, that sort of thing. Contrarily, both the de Bourgh family and the Darcys benefit from the relationship with the Earl. Everyone wins, but the price of entry is the dowry. The Earl would not allow his daughters to marry just anybody."

Mary said, "I can see that. The Earl has daughters, and many others want an alliance with him, so the dowry is how it all works. I guess it is a bit less like selling cattle, but still it is…"

Elizabeth said, "Embarrassing? Degrading? Perhaps it is, and perhaps not. I am trying to live in the world we live in, not the one we imagine where life is fair. Now let us leave those lofty heights and return to here and now. Let us say that that young pup Jane was courting married her. He would gain a gentleman's daughter, and she would gain security. The alliance between the families would be strengthened, and the overall structure of _both_ families would have been improved. It _might_ happen without a dowry, but what sensible man would take a dowerless woman when he can have one just as good that _has _a dowry? No dowry means the Bennets squander a chance to advance the extended family."

Lydia said, "So, our parent's indolence means that the Bennet family, instead of increasing in consequence will decrease."

Elizabeth said, "Yes, that is correct. We are competing in a 'market' for eligible men, and we have much less to bargain with, so will likely have to accept a lesser man – at least lesser in status."

Everyone absorbed that for a moment, and then Elizabeth continued.

"There is one more thing. Every parent _owes_ something to future generations to compensate for the privileges _they_ received from their ancestors. It is only fair. Mama came into this marriage with £5,000 with the idea that she would pass _some _of that down to future generations. Life is also hard, and people die. Mama needs that money to survive should Papa die early, leaving her at the mercy of a new owner. Dowries, jointures, wedding contracts, all of those sorts of things are meant to protect the women and children in the family, with the idea that they will use what they need and pass the rest down to their descendants. Mama has squandered the interest on her original jointure, but she cannot access the money before Papa's death because of her marriage contract."

Lydia said, "Well, Elizabeth… that was a long and… well… actually, surprisingly not tedious lecture. I feel like I understand it now."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "You are learning, Lydia. I know more now than I did, but the more I learn, the more I understand how little I know."

Lydia laughed, jumped up and danced around the room, and said, "La, Lizzy I am for once ahead of you. I have known all along that I knew practically nothing."

Everyone laughed for a moment, but then Lydia came back, grabbed Elizabeth's hand, and said, "Come with me, all of you."

They curiously followed her to the corridor. Lydia looked carefully in both directions, then dragged them into Mr. Bennet's bookroom and closed the door carefully."

The three spectators watched curiously as Lydia opened the bottom drawer of the desk, pulled out a rather heavy box, then reached under it, opened a hidden panel and removed a large key. Without a word, she ran over to a cleverly hidden cabinet on the back wall that Elizabeth did not even know was there, moved aside a small sampler to reveal a keyhole, and used the key to open it to reveal a set of hidden shelves. She then carried a large heavy looking box over to the desk. She grunted as she laid the box down carefully, and cautiously opened the lid, which was on smoothly oiled hinges.

Inside was a large, heavy looking and very beautiful book. It was obvious that it was quite old, well cared for, and much to Elizabeth's consternation, hidden from anyone and everyone. She was examining its front cover when she saw William pass her a handkerchief, saying, "It is clearly old and important, Cousin."

She smiled in appreciation, and on a whim, reached out and squeezed her cousin's forearm in compassion. She was rewarded with a small look into just what Mary had seen in the man that Lizzy was incapable of. He was a good man, and much handsomer than he had first appeared, now that he had found love (and presumably, some instruction on hygiene, grooming and dressing).

Elizabeth looked at the book that was written in Latin, and asked, "What is it, Lydia. It appears that you are a much more successful snoop than I ever was."

Lydia looked downcast, and said, "That is because you were always _welcome_ Lizzy. I was just _one of the silliest girls in England_, so I had to make do with sneaking around_._"

Elizabeth wrapped her in an embrace, and said, "I am so sorry I did not see it, Lydia."

Her sister said, "It was my fault as well, Lizzy. I could have behaved so much better and I might have been invited in."

The hug lasted but a moment, but then Lydia jumped back and returned to her own exuberant self, and said, "Are you dying of curiosity?"

Lydia pointed at the book, and said, "I heard Papa boast about this book to some of his friends, but never mentioned it to us. It is a _Gutenberg Bible. _Apparently, Gutenberg was a German engineer who invented the printing press, or something like that. It is over 350 years old, and it cost well over £100. I have heard Papa boast that he had to practically murder someone at an auction to own it."

Everyone gasped in surprise. £1 or £5 was _a lot_ for a book, but £100 was beyond comprehension. It was absolutely and utterly beyond their meager understanding. It was more than enough for the entire Bennet family to take lodgings and eat for a couple of years.

Lydia said, "I used to hide in the cupboard down there when he came back from town, and he would always have someone visit to share his boasts."

Elizabeth returned to the cupboard and looked over stacks and stacks of books. There was what looked to all the world like an original folio from Shakespeare. There was an early edition of the classic _Don Quixote_, and on and on. It was a veritable fortune.

She turned back to the other three, and said, "Well, there are our dowries. Several thousand pounds worth if this is any kind of sample. I hope you will enjoy them, William."

"_What would you have me do, Lizzy… Sell the whole lot so you girls can entice young men who are not really interested in you into the unhappy state of matrimony_?"

The four gasped and turned around to see Mr. Bennet standing at the door looking both angry and hostile.


	13. The Plan

Quite surprisingly, the first to respond to Mr. Bennet's salvo was Mr. Collins. Mr. Bennet was standing looking like a rooster defending his territory with a grim and exasperated expression. It was the angriest Elizabeth had ever seen him, and she wondered exactly _what _he was angry about.

Mr. Collins said, "I would suggest Sir, that you are over generalizing. I would beg you not assume that all marriages are unhappy, or all brides badly chosen, just because yours was."

Stunned silence met the room, and much to Elizabeth's surprise, Mr. Collins stood up straighter than he ever had and took on a look of masculinity that was completely unexpected; while her father, who had already been shrinking in her eyes for some weeks, crumbled even more.

"This is my home, Mr. Collins. You will treat me with respect or leave my house."

The reply was swift, "Mr. Bennet, I will indeed treat you with the respect you are due as my future father in law, but I will ask you to respect your offspring as well. None of us are perfect sir, least of all me, but we are all trying our very best. _Is this your very best, Sir?"_

Mr. Bennet shrugged, walked the rest of the way into the room, and sat down at his desk before replying.

"My best or not, since I am not dead just yet, this is still my house. What is it you want here in my domain… the one place I can be in peace in this madhouse?"

Feeling peevish, Elizabeth snapped, "That is one more than the rest of us have, Papa!"

"**Enough!**", shouted Mr. Bennet, adding, "I would ask for the use of my library if you do not find it entirely too much trouble."

Mary and Lydia started shuffling to the door, but Mr. Collins stood firm and replied.

"I would happily yield your solitude to you sir without complaint if I would not find _myself _remiss in my duties to my future sisters. I would speak to you, Sir. Should we resolve a few questions I have, we may leave this subject and never speak of it again."

Mr. Bennet sighed, and said, "I suppose this is the start of some stubborn campaign that you and Lizzy will wage on me until I relent."

"I shall not speak for my cousin, Sir, but I can speak for myself. Give me a dozen minutes of your time, and I will begone. Deny it, and I will very politely and with utmost humility ask again every day until you do."

Mr. Bennet looked angrier and angrier, and said, "Well, by all means, Sir. Let us get it over. I counted on you for some amusement, but I can assert that you are very far from the mark right now."

Elizabeth grinned when William said, "I have been a fool before, Sir. I shall no doubt be a fool directly after we are done, so you need only be patient. Your amusement at my foolishness will commence soon enough. I will even ask Lady Catherine to write to you if that will help."

Lydia laughed gaily, and said, "Well, he has you there, Papa!"

"So, are you to be added to my list of tormenters?"

Lydia walked straight up to his desk, leaned over with her fists resting on his blotter, and said, "I am trying to learn to be a _lady_, Papa. That means I may no longer torment Kitty. I suggest you not become my next target, as my lessons have only just begun, my progress is minimal, and you are not all that hard to find."

Much to everyone's surprise, Mr. Bennet leaned back in his chair and laughed.

Everyone looked on in confusion, and he finally spoke.

"Well, well, well… Perhaps… May I ask you a question, Girls, or is this to be an interrogation or torture?"

Mary said, "Of course, Papa. We are not here specifically to vex you."

Mr. Bennet nodded, and said, "I will not claim to be a good father. I will not even claim to be an adequate father, but I believe I could do worse. Let me ask you something. Suppose I could only pass on a single trait to my offspring. What would it be? Wealth? Beauty? Manners? Decorum? Clothing? Jewels? Intelligence? This dowry you are all blathering on about? What?"

Everyone looked at him in confusion, and he just sat as if he had all day for them to work it out.

Finally, Elizabeth said, "I would vote for resilience."

Mr. Bennet slapped his hand down on the desk with a great noise, and said, "Exactly! Now, I cannot pretend it was deliberate, or by design, or even something I desired, but here and now, I will take Lizzy's assessment as truth. Dare anyone contradict her?"

Everyone shook their heads in confusion, so he continued.

"Now, I have apparently shamed the very foundations of the Bennet family by not saving money to bribe suitors, and you are all here to take me to task, so I may assume some resilience has accidentally crept into your characters. May I also take it that Jane would be leading this charge if she was present? "

Elizabeth said, "Probably."

Bennet said, "So it is all working out as it should. My two most timid and sheep-like daughters are ready to do battle with their father like lionesses. I am satisfied."

Elizabeth snapped, "Parents are usually not so stingy as to only impart a single trait, Papa."

"Well, what do you suggest, Elizabeth? Should I sell off my treasures to give you some funds? Will that make your marital prospects better, or just attract the Wickhams of the world? Shall I retroactively hire a governess for you a decade ago or hire one right now for my two youngest? Will any of that bring back that blond puppy or his growling friend who ran from our family so precipitously; although through their actions I would say Jane avoided something unpleasant rather than lost an opportunity. Perhaps a hair shirt would satisfy you, or maybe I could eat mud or worms."

Elizabeth said, "None of that is necessary, Papa. I do have a suggested course of action which will leave me entirely satisfied, and I shall ask no more."

A tense silence lasted half a minute before Mr. Bennet said, "Well, spit it out!"

Quite calmly, Elizabeth said, "Do nothing! Do absolutely nothing – the same as you have always done! Sit here and enjoy your treasures like a dragon guarding the treasures in his cave, drooling over his gold and jewels. As you said, by accident more than design, your daughters are _becoming_ resilient. We now know the things you should have taught us, and that is all we need. Jane and I will go to town with the Gardiners. We will marry tradesmen or minor landholders and be _happy_, something we could perfectly have done two or three years ago without Mama's interference. Then we will help our two youngest sisters when they become old enough. We will quit wasting our time on men that require dowries, since we clearly will have none. We will be fine, and content that at least now we can see all the pieces on the chessboard and understand the state of play!"

She turned around and stomped towards the door, expecting her father to say something cruel and ready to ignore it. She was _not_ ready for what she did hear.

"A moment, if you please, Cousin."

She turned around and looked at Mr. Collins, who was still standing straight and looking a little bit formidable. She found the contrast between his present demeanor and his original manner quite startling, in a good way. She was extremely happy for Mary's sake to see it, and no longer worried about Longbourn's fate in the next generation.

Mr. Collins was standing in front of the desk, and he softly pointed to a chair, and said, "Please, Elizabeth. Sit. Hear me out."

She walked over and sat down in the chair, quite deflated from her earlier anger, but filled with resentment. It had been one thing when she thought her parents had just negligently let their future go up in smoke in fancy dresses and entertaining without a thought for the future. Indolence and ignorance were bad enough, but at least it was better than malice or avarice. To know that her father had a future sitting in his bookroom and _had not even told them of its existence_ was startling and distressing.

Mr. Collins faced his future father in law, and said, "Let us lay down the basic boundaries of this discussion, Mr. Bennet. These books are your possession, Sir, and it is nobody's business to tell you whether to sell them, keep them, give them away, auction them off, burn them in a large bonfire… whatever you choose. Are we in agreement, Sir?"

Looking petulant, Mr. Bennet said, "Yes, we agree for once. They are my books, and I will do with them as I choose."

Surprising everyone, Mr. Collins walked over to one of the visible bookshelves, pulled down a battered but serviceable copy of _Don Quixote_ and set it on the desk. He looked at it carefully and then went to the hidden closet and brought the even older and far more valuable older edition to sit beside it. Pointing to the battered version, he asked, "Where did you get this?"

Mr. Bennet said, "My grandfather bought it. Lizzy is the only one who learned enough Spanish to read it, though I think it was even beyond her. She only learned the basics."

Elizabeth just nodded, and said, "I can speak like a six-year-old at best. I had to resort to an English translation to get through it."

Mr. Collins said, "So it is part of the estate, and therefore part of the entail. Nobody would ever do it of course, but it is _possible_ that if you disposed of a significant part of the books you _inherited_, I could take you to the courts for recompense… just as if you sold some of the land. You could sell your own purchased books, but not those that you inherited."

Mr. Bennet grumbled, but looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said, "Yes, I suppose so, though it is not an exact science. The contents of the manor are somewhat ambiguous, and it might depend on the particular judge and the connections of the supplicant. Nobody but the biggest fool in the world would do such a thing, but it is remotely possible."

Collins said, "So, what happens if you fall over dead five minutes from now? Or in a year or a decade?"

Mr. Bennet looked confused, so Mr. Collins added, "What happens to those books," pointing to the cabinet, and asked, "Would they not be part of the estate, and fall into my possession?"

Mr. Bennet very reluctantly nodded, and said, "Yes, I suppose so. I never thought about it very much."

Mr. Collins said, "_Think about it now, please!_ If I sold the books when I arrived, and I had a very disagreeable heir, _he could potentially take me to the courts_. It would become my responsibility to prove they are _not_ part of the estate, and winning would be a throw of the dice. Is that not correct? If you take _no action_, then they become part of the entail. It is not broken for one more generation, so you lock those books into that cabinet, most likely until all of your direct heirs are very old or dead, and both you and I lose all control over their disposition, or take our chances with the ambiguity."

At that point, Mr. Collins was standing tall staring Mr. Bennet down, and the older gentleman was shrinking back into his seat.

Mr. Bennet finally said, "I cannot fault your logic, Sir."

Mr. Collins said, "Now, Sir, suppose we made a complete inventory of all the books that are _not_ part of the estate so not subject to the entail, and you sold them or gave them to me thirty seconds before you died… or even just made the list part of your will so they were clearly defined as personal property. What then?"

"I suppose you could do with them as you choose, or whomever I designated in my will could do so. They would be outside the entail so your heirs would have no claim, and I would be dead."

Collins said, "Very well. Suppose you and I make a business agreement, right here, right now, in writing. You will promise to sell those books to me retroactively _after you are dead_, and I will agree to pay the moneys to your descendants according to any schedule you deem fit. Your _daughters_ would get the benefit of the money, though very late in the day, and you would still have your treasures at no cost save staying out of the way while your daughters make the inventory for you to sign and have witnessed."

Mr. Bennet looked like he was not enjoying being backed into a corner, but eventually said, "I see no impediment."

Elizabeth wanted to scream at the need to force him to sign his name once, but William saw her reaction and held his hand to ask her subtly to hold her peace.

Mr. Collins said, "Now, Sir. I will ask one more thing. I believe there are collectors, very rich collectors who would as you say practically kill for some of those."

He pointed at the Gutenberg and continued, "By chance, I happened to hear about this particular book in seminary. Most believe there are less than 50 left in the world. It is the first book printed with a modern press, the very beginning of the modern publishing industry. They are valuable now and will become far more so over time."

Mr. Bennet said, "Your point, Sir?"

Mr. Collins stood his ground, kept the father's eye, and said, "With Lady Catherine's help, I could probably make an agreement with one of those rich men to purchase the books after you are gone, but to make partial payment for them as each of your daughters save Mary wed. You would have your treasures until your death, and your daughters would have a dowry right now at no trouble and expense to yourself."

He paused to see if Mr. Bennet reacted, then continued, "The collector would most likely not be distressed, as he would know he was passing a great treasure to his sons and grandsons. For a rich man, the cost and waiting for several years for the result would be trivial - no worse than it would be for any other man waiting for his wife's portion that is dependent on a parent's demise. As I said, in that situation, everybody wins and at almost no effort to yourself."

Mr. Bennet looked at the man with practically a growl in his voice, and finally said, "Mary, your husband is giving away what could rightly be considered your legacy."

Mary said, "I will have Longbourn, Papa. I will be more than satisfied. I would be quite cross with William if he asked for an equal share. Lizzy worked out our finances, and William and I are quite content with our situation."

Mr. Collins smiled at his betrothed, and for a moment the two did not seem to see anyone else in the room.

Mr. Bennet said, "Well, Lizzy… Lydia… I would not have anticipated you two would be the ones in such a serious conversation. Are you satisfied with your cousin's plan?"

Elizabeth said, "Of course, Papa. I applaud William's plan."

She stopped herself just short of adding, _'all is forgiven'_. She was not entirely certain anything was forgiven, but the worst part was that she had lost what little esteem she had for her father.

Lydia just nodded, and said, "Can I ask how much is there without sounding like a shrill mercenary? I will not tell a soul."

Mr. Bennet cleared his throat loudly to get everyone's attention, and said, "If I go along with this plan,_ I will insist on only one condition, and I will brook no opposition_. I wish the dowries to remain secret – absolutely secret. It would not do to make you all victims of every fortune hunting rake in the county. You need to bring a man to the point _without_ a promise of any particular dowry. You may tell him it is _modest_, and no more. Anyone who violates this agreement will forfeit their share."

Elizabeth looked at Lydia for confirmation, and said, "We will agree, Papa, and I am certain Jane and Kitty will as well."

Mr. Bennet said, "Very well. I have spent around £4-600 per annum, and some of the volumes have increased in value. Since you are so insistent, I will get a formal appraisal. I would say they will provide around £3-4,000 for each of you."

Elizabeth and Lydia gasped in shock, while Mary beamed at her betrothed in satisfaction. Mr. Collins looked like the cat who ate the canary.

Mr. Bennet picked up the old battered copy of Don Quixote, opened it to what appeared to be a random page, and said, "Mr. Collins, this is your plan, Sir so you shall implement it. Gardiner will help you find an appraiser, and you may send my gaggle of daughters to do their inventory any time it is convenient after I have retired for the evening."

Elizabeth wanted to growl at him, but Mary took her hand to keep her quiet, believing it was best to retire with a victory.

Mr. Bennet looked at the book, for all the world immersed in its contents, and said, "And now, if you do not mind. I would have the use of my library at your earliest convenience."

* * *

_A/N: Hey gang, interesting reactions to the previous chapter. I was beginning to worry I was getting tedious, but most of you seemed to like it._

_The legal points may or may not be exactly correct, but the implementation of entails was a bit tricky and had some ambiguity. Disposition of personal property was not very well settled. Beyond that, I'm not an expert so apologize for any inaccuracies._

_It turns out that book collecting was a thing at the time, but not quite what it is today. It's hard for someone as lazy as I am to get actual prices, but 2 Gutenberg Bibles were sold around 1800-1810 for £80‑100. What I said about it being the birth of the printing industry is correct. There are 49 known copies today, with only 21 being complete. The Wikipedia entry on it is quite interesting and worth reading. Most of you know my wife is Spanish, so I added Don Quixote because I'll use both it and the fact that Lizzy speaks six-year-old Spanish later. Don Quixote is widely considered the 'first modern novel'._

_I always like to pile on Mr. B, probably mostly because I am a father of daughters and I dislike his laziness. This is the end of the Longbourn segment, so next up is London, I think, probably._

_Wade _


	14. That Task

_A/N: Hey, gang, guess it's not all that tedious after all;) _

_I've only occasionally made a good Mr. Collins. so that was fun. Mary liking her husband might have seemed a bit icky at first, but hey… this Mr. Collins (or the standard Fanon name 'William') is quite adequate, I think. I'll be somewhat less math heavy from here on. I'm switching to analogies and languages and… well, you can wait for it. I do know how it ends with some precision. Just to be clear, Mr. Bennet is a deadbeat, not a clever and savvy investor. Lizzy's idea to have him do 'nothing' was not a thought-out plan… just a pissed off woman._

_Fun math fact: __**THIS**__ word makes this story exactly one order of magnitude (ten times) bigger than my original._

_For the anxious, you will see Darcy again in about 3-5 chapters, and the Bingleys again near the end. For Easter Egg hunters, there will be at least one 'Vikings' reference later, and even a little bit of my atrociously bad Spanish._

_Wade_

* * *

"Lizzy, I need you to do that task you do so well."

Elizabeth looked in confusion, and asked, "What task is that, Jane?"

"Talk to Mr. Jameson for me."

Elizabeth stared at Jane in consternation, and said, "I fear you will need to be more specific, Jane. The gentleman has been calling on you for seven weeks now. I like him and respect him very much, and his situation is felicitous. You seem to be doing just fine. What in the world could I possibly talk to him about?"

The ladies were comfortably ensconced in the Gardiner drawing room in Cheapside, after enjoying a good breakfast, a bit of play with the Gardiner children, and an hour of play in the back lawn enjoying the warm March sunshine.

Jane lowered her gaze to the floor, and replied, "I do not know how to say this, Lizzy. You remember the rage cannonball you launched when that other so-called gentleman left me in Meryton?"

Not liking the direction of the conversation, Elizabeth quietly said, "Yes, I suppose so. Our parents are still recovering. Do you regret it now?"

Jane looked directly at her and replied, "Of course not! It was exactly what I needed to do at the time, and it produced good results."

"So, what are you saying? Speak plainly, Jane."

Jane paused a moment, then continued, "After I chastised our parents within an inch of their lives, I felt _happy_… truly happy. I felt complete. I felt… I cannot say what… perhaps vindicated. In a way, it made the situation so easy. I was a good girl, who did as I was told, always did my best, always… well, you get the idea. That rage meant that I could blame all the world's problems on our parents."

Elizabeth took her hand and said, "And now?"

"And now, I realize that I am two and twenty, and I have never _truly_ taken responsibility for my actions. I have had five minutes of being a wolf, and decades of being a sheep."

Elizabeth showed her exasperation with a ferocious frown before continuing heatedly.

"Jane, you are the only thing that kept us sane in that household. You were the eldest, the peacemaker, the better part of all of our characters. You have never said an unkind word in your life. We all depended on you, probably to an unfair extent."

"And yet, what did that gain us? Being the peacemaker in the family did nothing but allow Lydia and Kitty to run rampant because you and I always smoothed things over. Ignoring our mother's worst suggestions and working to minimize the damage her gossip creates just encouraged her to do even more, like a spoiled child who was never disciplined. I think that all of this has been counterproductive."

Becoming alarmed, and a bit angry, Elizabeth said, "Jane… your deportment and behavior were set in stone when you were a small child. Perhaps, _now _you should be thinking about it, but punishing yourself for the way you lived the rest of your life is both unfair and not helpful. Kitty and Lydia are just fine now. Your setdown was a reckoning for them, and they are both growing into admirable young ladies – slowly and unevenly, mind you, but relentlessly. I will assert you said just the right thing at just the right time, and there can be no two opinions on the subject."

"But there can be, Lizzy. That phrase is overused. There could be a hundred opinions."

Elizabeth grinned, and said, "I will admit the possibility of precisely two opinions. _Mine_ and _wrong!_"

Jane gave just a little laugh, and Elizabeth was happy to see her humor being restored just a little.

"So, we come back to my point. There is another in our family with a talent for saying just the right thing at just the right time."

"What do you mean, Jane?"

"I mean the _very successful _marriage of Mary and William. During the preparations for the wedding, you saw her fall in love with her now husband right in front of our eyes, yes?"

"Yes, of course, but I cannot pretend to any good intent. It is not counted as my proudest moment. I _manipulated _the poor man, Jane. I treated him very poorly, and disrespectfully from the moment he arrived until that proposal. It is a testament to his fundamental good character that he does not hold it against me."

"So, if I asked our brother his opinion of your actions, he would agree that you did the wrong thing, but it coincidentally worked out as it should, so all is forgiven?"

Elizabeth stared back at the floor, and replied, "I do not know. It is not a subject I am willing to canvass with him."

Jane poked Elizabeth in the knee to get her sister to raise her eyes, and said, "Well, Lizzy… with respect to William at least, I am nowhere near as timid. They visited London in February, and I asked him directly in plain English."

"You did not!"

"I did!"

Elizabeth blushed in embarrassment, and said, "So, what is his opinion?"

Jane took her hands and said, "He told me that even if you did the right thing for all the wrong reasons, he would be quite happy. A man so violently in love with his wife as he is with Mary would be happy for any situation with such a good outcome – but he strongly disputed that was the case."

"How so?"

Jane sighed, and said, "Right or wrong, Lizzy… our brother believes you have a natural _affinity_ for such things. You recognized that he and Mary would do well, despite a dearth of real evidence in favor of that outcome, save Mary saying she had some interest in him. You recognized that he was in a stubborn mood and would need strong persuasion in the right direction. He believes he acted badly, but you did the right thing to bring about the correct outcome. He thinks you can fool yourself all you want to, but you have a talent that was well applied. It is a skill, that you possess. You have the ability to see to the heart of relationships and understand what is missing."

Elizabeth shook her head, and said, "Jane, suppose you throw ten numbered stones on the ground, put some grain on each, and asked a chicken to pick the answer to two plus three. One time out of ten it would get the right answer, the same as a stopped clock is right twice a day. That is all I did. He could just as easily be married to Charlotte Lucas or Louisa Goulding right now if we were depending on me to set things right. If I was as clever as you think, I would have dissuaded him from proposing in the first place, or I would have advised you better on that other gentleman."

Jane said, "Lizzy, I do not repent the loss of that unnamed man. That was a bad fate narrowly avoided through sheer luck… but it has left me… well…"

"Left you _what_, Jane?"

Jane sighed, and said, "Well, I should not tell you this…"

"Then do not."

"No, I need to. You see… I am left… somewhat damaged… somewhat timid… unsure of myself. With that other man I acted exactly as a lady is taught to act. I did not flirt or show overt signs of my regard, assuming he could see them. Now, I see that may have hurt me, but I still have difficulty believing in my… worthiness."

"Bite your tongue, Jane Bennet! You are the worthiest woman I know."

"Perhaps, but it is more likely that sisterly affection clouds your vision. However, that brings us to Mr. Jameson."

Elizabeth did not like the direction of the conversation in the least, but said, "Go on!"

"He was betrothed, half a year before I met him."

Elizabeth startled at the news, and said, "What happened?"

Jane looked pained, but whether it was embarrassment or some other emotion, Elizabeth could not guess.

"Her father overheard her speaking to another woman. She said outright that she was just accepting him for his position in life. His betrothed boasted that she would not _necessarily_ feel the need to be _faithful_ once she did her duty by producing an heir."

Elizabeth stared at her in consternation, but Jane just continued calmly.

"He is not wealthy or gentry, but he is a very successful tradesman. He is well off, and he expects to buy an estate soon. The situation is something like another man we once knew, except he _earned_ his own success. His betrothed was only thinking of him for what he could give her."

Elizabeth stared in horror, and said, "What happened then?"

"Her father broke the engagement. I do not know what happened to the lady, but I do not believe it was pleasant. Mr. Jameson accepted the change quietly, which I think was generous of him. His reputation and his confidence were damaged, while the guilty party's was mostly intact – but he did not have it in him to be vindictive."

Elizabeth took her hands, and said, "So, you have two people, both recently abandoned and…"

Jane sighed, and said, "Both unable to move past our hurt. We both like each other… well, to tell the truth, I believe I could well love him at some point, but neither of us can get past this barrier of unreasonable fear. We cannot get to the next step, so we muddle along betwixt and between."

Elizabeth sat back in her chair and thought for quite some time.

Finally, she asked somewhat timidly, "Are you certain that this is not just a case of two people carrying identical hurts and hoping two wrongs can make a right? How can you expect to solve the _next _big problem in your life if you have to run to your sister for help?"

Jane said, "No, I am not certain of anything, Lizzy. I just know that I cannot manage to start the conversation I know we need to have. Perhaps a better analogy would be a broken leg. I would expect someone with a broken leg to eventually be a strong as ever, but not if they disdain a crutch while they heal."

Elizabeth sat back for some time, and finally sighed in resignation.

"So, I am to be your crutch?"

"Please, Lizzy!"

Elizabeth thought a few more minutes, and finally said, "All right. I do not like it, and think it is probably officious interference at best… but… I will try! I will promise nothing."

Jane jumped across the sofa and hugged her sister, who was staring at the floor wondering what in the world she had gotten herself into.

Elizabeth said, "So, tell me about your Mr. Jameson. You have been surprisingly short of candor and detail in your letters."

Jane looked a bit embarrassed, and said, "I trust you Lizzy, but I do not trust everyone at Longbourn. I did not want rumors floating around Meryton, and you know as well as I do that the privacy of your letters is not guaranteed."

Elizabeth nodded unhappily.

Jane added, "Besides that, just the very idea of writing about him in something even hypothetically going to Meryton made me… nervous. I knew you would be here at this time, so I just waited."

Elizabeth hugged her sister, sorry for the sad state of affairs they found themselves in vis-à-vis their closest family, but she could not fault the logic.

Shaking off her feelings, she thought it time to get to work. She asked, "You met him at an assembly just over two months ago, correct?"

Jane sighed a bit, and said, "Yes. He was at the assembly, standing around with a scowl that could challenge your Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Jane, how can you put those three words together in a conversation, let alone a sentence. He is far from 'my' Mr. Darcy. I barely know the man, and I am not very enamored with the part I do know."

Jane smiled, and said, "If you say so, Lizzy. He did stare at you quite a lot."

"Stop trying to deflect, Jane. So, he was looking uncomfortable?"

Jane nodded, ducked her head, and said, "I must confess, he attracted me almost immediately."

"Probably because he was as opposite of that _other man_ as it is possible to be, if he resembled Mr. Darcy. Are you certain that is the appropriate criteria for a man? That he be not what you are accustomed to?"

Jane looked uncomfortable, and replied, "Perhaps. I confess, that is part of what worries me. Are we both just looking for the opposite of what we have experienced, and if so, how would we know?"

Elizabeth shook her head, and said, "How do you intend to find out?"

"Oh, you will work it out."

Elizabeth snorted, and said, "That is not the best idea you have ever had, Jane."

"Perhaps not, but it will do."

"Pray, continue."

"Well, I managed to engineer an introduction. Uncle Gardiner knew a man who knew Mr. Jameson, and so he arranged it. I fear the initial entreaty was received with about as much grace as Mr. Darcy showed you, but then he found his manners and reconsidered. Naturally, I was watching from a distance so did not hear what was said, which is probably just as well."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I can tell you from experience that hearing things said about you in that situation seldom turns out well."

"No, I suppose not. At any rate, he _did_ ask me to dance, and we did endure the most awkward dance in the history of the world."

Elizabeth laughed at that, and said, "Second most awkward. You should have seen my dance with Mr. Darcy an the Netherfield ball."

"No, I missed that entirely."

Elizabeth shook her head, not wanting to distract them from the subject at hand.

Jane looked wistful, and said, "He took me back to Aunt and Uncle when the dance was over, resumed his pacing for a half‑hour, and then left. I thought that would be the last I ever saw of him."

"And was it?"

"No, I saw him a week later at another ball. This time though, he seemed in better spirits. He greeted me quite cordially and asked me to dance almost immediately."

"Was that one better?"

"Yes… marginally. We at least talked in that one, though nothing beyond the commonplaces."

Elizabeth said, "He sounds more and more like Mr. Darcy every step."

Jane said, "Yes, I suppose so – at first. I saw him again at a supper party a week later, and then again at a musical soirée. We gradually lost some of our guardedness, but I must say I was taken aback when he called two days later."

"What did you do then?"

"We talked, became a bit more comfortable, took the children to the park, and then parted company. It was not unpleasant, but it was not pleasant either. It was mostly just awkward, and I expected that was the last I would see of him. I was ambivalent about whether that was good or bad."

Elizabeth said, "It does not sound very promising."

"No, but he kept at it, calling every few days, and occasionally bumping into me at entertainments. Aunt and Uncle have been taking me out more than they are accustomed to, though they also send me with trusted friends sometimes."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "So, your Mr. Darcy… err… Jameson… you say he gradually warmed up?"

"Yes. He became less guarded. I became less guarded. Our conversations took on more depth, and before I knew it, we were… well… we were… something. I do not know exactly what we are or how we got there. My feelings are a muddle. I was in the middle before I knew I had started. Now… now…"

Elizabeth sat silently for a few moments, took Jane's hands, and said, "Now?"

"Now… we are stuck. We are more than friends, but less than lovers. We are both so cautious that I feel the slightest ripple will simply end this thing before we even know what it is."

Elizabeth asked carefully, "Would that be a bad thing?"

Jane stared back, thought about it for a moment, and said, "Suppose you had developed some feelings on the positive side of the scale for Mr. Darcy, and then he just left. Would you always wonder?"

"Probably for a while, but sooner or later, the past can be left in the past."

"But what if I do not _want _to leave it in the past?"

Elizabeth, for just a moment became angry, and snapped, "Then do something about it! Are you to let timidity be your downfall one more time, Jane? The sheep act did you no favors in Meryton."

Jane snapped back surprisingly vehemently, "I am doing something, Lizzy. I am begging my sister for help. Is that too much to ask?"

Elizabeth sat back; a bit unnerved at seeing Jane's temper one more time. This time, it had none of the fire she had used on her parents. She was angry, but it was tinged with a bit of desperation.

Elizabeth sat forward, took Jane's hands, and said, "All right, Jane. Be at ease. I will talk to your Mr. Jameson tomorrow."

Jane made a humorless chuckle, and said, "He is not _my_ Mr. Jameson."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, after tomorrow he either will be, or he will not, but at least you will be closer to knowing."

"Thank you, Lizzy. I know how hard it is for you."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "You would do the same for me, Jane."

Jane shook her head, and said, "No, Lizzy… I would not. You have a talent I do not possess."

"Do not sell yourself short, Jane. You have your own talents. You are just too close to this particular problem."

"And you are not."

Elizabeth stared at Jane and said, "No, I am not."

Jane nodded a few times, and then said, "You know, Lizzy. Something occurs to me."

"What?"

"Well, it took me a while to work it out because I did not know the particulars, but now I can look back on my first meeting with Mr. Jameson with clarity. What I saw on his face was the distress of _betrayal._ It is clear to me now, although I did not know how to detect the signs before."

Elizabeth said, "A useful skill, Jane."

Jane said, "It makes me wonder. Now I believe I can recognize the exact expression for a man who has been betrayed in the worst possible way but is forced back into society. There is a particular expression in the eyes and countenance that gives it away."

Elizabeth curiously said, "As I said, a useful skill."

Jane looked at her intently, and said, "So let me give you something to think about, Lizzy. When I described a man suffering a recent _betrayal_ of the _worst_ kind but forced into society, who did I use as an example?"

Elizabeth just stared at her in confusion until the connection was made.

Jane got up from the sofa, and said, "We shall probably never meet Mr. Darcy again, but if we do, perhaps we might have something more to think about. He had the look, Lizzy… he had the look."


	15. Little Boxes

The March sun was warm and inviting as the group headed out for the nearby park. The Gardiner children were a boisterous group, running, laughing and skipping ahead. As they approached the duck pond, they ran off with bags of bread, followed by their maid and Jane.

Walking beside Elizabeth with a smile on his face, Mr. Jameson looked at Jane bouncing away and said, "It looks like it is just us, Miss Elizabeth. Am I to presume this is some sort of scheme?"

Elizabeth looked embarrassed, and said, "Perhaps, Mr. Jameson… but only if you deem it acceptable."

He laughed, and said, "I am at your disposal, Miss Elizabeth. I confess I find the operation of large families interesting, and sisters perplexing. I only had one brother, and he joined the Navy some years ago at a young age. He found himself in the Americas and liked it enough to stay. I have not seen him in years. Tell me, do different sisters take on different responsibilities in the Bennet family?"

Elizabeth noticed he sounded a bit nervous in his speech, so she wondered what he thought of the arrangement. She reckoned she would be nervous in his shoes as well, so it was up to her to relieve it a bit.

Somewhat nervous herself, she said, "Yes, sir… we all have our assigned roles. I fear I have been assigned the role of _Mistress of Awkward Conversations_."

"I thought as much. So, Miss Bennet has confided in you about our… err… confusion, I presume."

Elizabeth sighed, wondering what she was doing here. Mr. Jameson seemed to be a good man, but he was still calling Jane 'Miss Bennet' after two months, and he appeared to be very nervous about having a private conversation with her sister. It did not bode well for the state of whatever it was the two of them had, but Elizabeth was not ready to give up just yet, considering how hardheaded Bennets were.

She added, as honestly as she could, "At some level, yes. She is a very private person. I am her confidant, but she always keeps a little bit back from me, and almost everything back from everyone else."

He nodded, and said, "Does she expect you to be… um… helpful in some way?"

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "Well, much to my chagrin I intervened for my sister Mary, and it turned out well… very well. Unfortunately, that has convinced two of my sisters that I have some skill in the dark arts of courtship, whilst I maintain that I was lucky once."

The gentleman looked thoughtful, and said, "Well, Miss Elizabeth. You know I am a tradesman, and that I make my bread through alliances, negotiations, deals and arrangements?"

"Yes, I am aware. I respect your skill. Uncle Gardiner has told me about your business, and I admire it."

"In trade, one must be constantly making calculations of risk versus rewards. It can become rather convoluted, but basically you want to balance the two. For example, if you were investing your last pound, you would happily take a certain reward of 10%, over a 50% chance of making 50%."

"Yes, that is rudimentary arithmetic."

"Yes. Of course, if you are investing one pound out of ten thousand, then the latter bet would be better. If you could find a dozen different bets with a 50:50 chance of triple the benefit, you should take all of them."

"Yes, I can see that."

"Now we come to the crux of the matter. It is all in the estimate of the chance of success. The best predictor of future success is past success. So, if I am to ally myself with another, I would like someone with a record to be defended. Someone who has succeeded a dozen times is obviously better than someone who has never done so, or only has once or twice… would you agree?"

"Yes, of course. That is just common sense."

He chuckled, and continued, "Well, suppose you have a choice between someone who has succeeded _once_ and someone who has succeeded _never?_"

Elizabeth felt a bit embarrassed, and said, "Logically, I imagine you take what you can get, but exercise caution due to the paucity of positive evidence in its favor."

Jameson nodded, and said, "So, we understand each other, Miss Elizabeth. Your record is outstanding compared to mine or your sisters. I shall take you as an expert on the subject. What shall we talk about?"

Elizabeth sighed at being so easily manipulated, and said, "Little boxes."

They pair were walking along side by side, and he stopped, and scrunched his head in confusion, then asked, "Would you care to elaborate?"

Elizabeth found she hated being in this awkward position, but since she was willing to do just about anything for Jane, she carried on.

"Of course! I find that I cannot quite bring myself to speak in plain and unambiguous language so early in a conversation, so I will have to use analogies. Are you willing to entertain such an idea?"

"I shall follow your lead, Miss Elizabeth. I trust you to have your sister's best interest at heart, as do I."

Elizabeth asked curiously, "Even above your own?"

"Of course."

Elizabeth gently took hold of the gentleman's elbow and led him to the side of the path next to a small shrub. She pointed down at the plant, which was a couple feet on a side, and said, "Let us imagine that shrub is a little box."

She reached down to the shrub, and then used her hands to outline the imaginary outlines of the box. She then pantomimed opening a lid, somewhat like the lid of a trunk. Then, she pantomimed pulling something from her chest and dumping it into the trunk.

"For the next hour, Sir, I should like to dump all of my propriety into the box."

Continuing more of her pantomimed motions, she continued, "And here we have politeness, decorum and manners… all the little lies we use to make social discourse easier."

She looked up at him and was happy to see he was watching her intently, but apparently not intimidated by the exercise, so she continued.

"Here we leave embarrassment, pride, anger, fear and temper. All I have left is honesty. Clear, brutal, honesty."

Then she pantomimed closing the lid of the imaginary box, and said, "So, Sir… that is the first box. Will you do the same?"

She stood back and was gratified to see the gentleman step right up to the shrub and open his own box. He repeated the same motions, and said, "Propriety, fear, embarrassment, manners, decorum, pride… all as you specified, Miss Elizabeth. I shall give you only honesty."

Elizabeth nodded, then took his arm and started walking in a direction that would take them out of sight of Jane. She did not want him distracted.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "Now, I want to talk about other boxes. I find the analogy useful."

Showing some humor, he chuckled and said, "Perhaps we should go back to the boxes and put prevarication in as well?"

Elizabeth laughed, liking the gentleman more and more as time went on and continued.

"Well, Sir… we all live our lives in various boxes. Families are like a box, or a house. There are various relationships going on inside the box, and various relationships between those in the box and those outside the box. It is useful to have the box to differentiate the things that are more tightly connected from those that are less so."

"I can agree, although your experience is probably more extensive than mine. My mother died young, so my family box never had more than three people in it, and we were all men or boys."

Elizabeth felt a pang of pity for such an upbringing but thought that would not be helpful.

Elizabeth said, "That is unfortunate, although understanding that might help our cause. I was raised in a box with six females and one male, although to be fair, my father had his own box that most of us were never invited into. For all intents and purposes, the vast majority of Jane's and my lives have been in a box filled with women."

The man nodded, and said, "I imagine we could find even more different boxes for upbringing, but those are sufficient for our needs."

"Exactly. Now, here is the thing about boxes. Sometimes, you can see things more clearly from _inside_ the box, because you are inside with full visibility to all that goes on. However, and this is important, sometimes it takes someone _outside _the box to see clearly because those inside are distracted by all the noise and bother in the box, or because they are so accustomed to being in the box that they do not notice what is right in front of their eyes. They may not even be aware there are different boxes in the world."

The gentleman nodded, and said, "I am following you, madam. It is a perfect analogy, I believe. It works in business, and I see no reason it will not apply in people's lives as well."

Getting to the crux of the problem, Elizabeth said, "My father is a good example, Mr. Jameson. He was unsatisfied with the isolation provided by the normal box surrounding a family, so he built another box _inside_ the family. In his case, it was his bookroom. He would occasionally pass messages through the wall of the bookroom to the rest of us, and even more rarely with the outside world. There, in his own little box, he collected his treasures, left the raising and marrying of his daughters to anyone who was _not him_, and treated his box as his entire world. I esteemed him until recently, but now I realize I only did so because he gave me a slightly bigger window into his box than my sisters, and I found things I liked in his box when I was allowed inside."

The man looked pained, and said, "I will not censure the man…"

Elizabeth somewhat peevishly snapped, "Take that back, Sir! It smacks of politeness, which you promised to leave in the box over the shrub. You may perfectly well censure him all you want during this conversation, but you are not to moderate your tone for me. I am more resilient than you might think, and the chances of you chastising him any harder than Jane and I have are slim."

Jameson said, "Well, then…"

He paused a moment as if building up his courage, and said, "Well, then… I am horrified. I am appalled. He is master of an estate. He _chose _to have daughters. He does not have to work for his bread, beyond making certain his tenants are productive. I have learned the outlines of his perfidy from Jane, and I say I cannot respect a man like that."

Elizabeth smiled at him, and said, "There now! That was not so hard, was it?"

He chuckled, and said, "No, it was not. To tell the truth, it was liberating."

Elizabeth noticed they were out of sight of just about everybody, but they were still quite public, so she had no concerns for her reputation. She dragged him to a stop, then stood facing him and said, "Now we come to my first important point about boxes. You will assure me right here and now that you are not like that. Jane has had quite enough of indolent men for one lifetime."

Feeling somewhat angry, the man practically shouted, "What do you take me for, Miss Elizabeth. I will not stand for…"

Before he could continue, she very boldly grabbed his arm, and shushed him.

"Very well, Sir. That is the exact response I desired. Thank you for remembering _not _to moderate it."

He chuckled, and said, "I feel like a violin, Miss Elizabeth. You play quite well."

Elizabeth colored, and said, "A drum is probably a better analogy. I know you probably think of that as a compliment, Sir, but… well, it is not a compliment, but it is the truth, so I cannot complain unless I want to return to the shrub and open the box to get some pride back."

They both relaxed, then she faced the same direction, took his arm and started walking again.

"Now, let us talk about the little box you and Jane are in."

He looked nervous, but simply nodded, so Elizabeth continued.

"The two of you have been hurt. You have both been betrayed. You were betrayed in a much worse manner than Jane was in the recent past, but I believe her betrayal by her family was of a lower magnitude, but a much longer duration. It has a cumulative effect, so I believe you are both damaged by betrayal to a greater or lesser extent. Would you agree, Sir?"

"Yes", he said tightly.

"Both of you were raised to be private people, I suspect. Jane was the beauty of the family that was supposed to save us all. You were raised as a man, and probably taught to be private because that is the normal course for your sex. Am I correct?"

"Yes, you have it just right, Miss Elizabeth."

"So, both of you have put yourself in your own little boxes, full of hurt, betrayal, expectations and privacy. You met, and both of you could see _something _in the other box. However, neither of you know if you see someone you might love, or just another person carrying similar injuries. Is that a fair assessment?"

He said nothing for at least a dozen yards, but then finally said, "Yes, that is the conundrum, Miss Elizabeth. Do we attract each other because of some innate quality we both like; or do we attract each other because misery loves company? I do not believe the latter is the case but cannot discount the possibility."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, Sir… that was my thought exactly. I said nearly the same thing to Jane yesterday. The fact that you are asking the question is significant, I think. Few things are all good or all bad. The fact that you are willing to admit to the possibility indicates a capacity for self-reflection that will serve you well if you ever work out the answer. The fact that you are unable to get past it is not as auspicious, though."

He nodded, and said, "It is as if we both built a box around ourselves, but we then constructed a maze inside of it. We both know the other is there somewhere, and we both believe the maze must have a solution, but we keep stumbling around it, knowing someone else is in the maze only because we can hear them through the walls."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "You really take to this analogy business with gusto, Sir. Are you this competitive in everything?"

He sighed, and said, "Well, apparently _almost _everything, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth said, "Well, Sir. Now we are in my area of expertise. Did Jane tell you that I used mathematics to engineer the marriage between my sister and brother?"

He said, "She gave me the broad outlines, but was too embarrassed to tell the details."

Elizabeth said, "Well, let me tell you the whole story", and then she proceeded to do so.

When she was finished, he laughed said, "Well, who would have thought that compound interest was the key to domestic felicity?"

Elizabeth laughed along with him and said, "Do not forget the supreme value of multiplication and addition… which brings me to the simplest of all mathematical concepts."

He said, "Which is?"

"Comparisons, thresholds and proportional scaling. Wait here."

During the story of Mary's odd courtship, Elizabeth had worked them back around to the duck pond, so she ran off around the corner, and returned a moment later dragging Jane with her.

Mr. Jameson was standing near another shrub looking pensive, so Elizabeth dragged Jane to the shrub, pointed to it, and said, "There is the box, Jane."

Knowing what was happening, Jane immediately but somewhat fearfully pantomimed opening the box and dumping her politeness and other attributes into it. She closed it, then somewhat fearfully faced her sister and Mr. Jameson.

Elizabeth said, "Well, here we all are. Mr. Jameson, I promised you some simple mathematics… comparisons and thresholds, with a bit of scaling; but may we first divert to philosophy?"

Jane said, "I know you eventually start making sense, Lizzy, but this is not an auspicious beginning."

All three chuckled, which had been her intent all along.

Elizabeth looked at the couple, and thought she saw what she needed to see. There countenances showed equal measures of hope and fear. They had both given her some measure of _faith_ that she could resolve it. Elizabeth privately thought their faith was misplaced, but as with all questions of faith, the faith itself might be the tonic they needed. Perhaps they did not need Elizabeth to _actually _accomplish anything. They simply had to agree between the two of them that they had _faith that she would_. Perhaps the faith in a good outcome was all they needed, and Elizabeth could pick an approach to the problem at random.

Those thoughts were not being helpful, so she brought herself back to the problem at hand.

"I will return to the most ancient of questions. This was a well-established and frankly unanswerable debate in Aristotle's time, well over 2,000 years ago. Which came first, the Chicken or the Egg?"

The question seemed to be a complete non-sequitur, so the pair looked at her in confusion.

Elizabeth explained, "It is really quite simple. You both want trust and love. To _receive_ trust and love, you must _give_ trust and love. Both are afraid to be the first to give it, which in turn makes you unable to receive it. You are caught in the horns of a dilemma, a victim of circular reasoning. You cannot have a Chicken without an Egg, nor can you have an Egg without a Chicken."

Jane and Jameson stared at her a moment, and Jane finally said, "I suppose you have a mathematical answer."

"Yes, I do. As I said, we will use comparisons, thresholds and proportional scaling."

Elizabeth quite boldly took hold of both of her students, and said, "Now, I want you to stand back to back."

Both looked perplexed, but since Elizabeth had cleverly maneuvered them into a stand of trees that was quite private, they complied, standing about a foot apart.

Elizabeth looked around to make sure then were unobserved, and then did something quite outrageous. She reached her hand around Jane's waist and pushed her back unto she was touching the gentleman.

Jane gasped, but Elizabeth relentlessly said, "Oh, quit whingeing, Jane. Remember your embarrassment is still over in the box. You may retrieve it when we are done."

The two members of the couple stood making perhaps their first contact that was not gloved hands on hands or arms, and the feeling was, Elizabeth assumed, a combination of thrilling and mortifying… exactly as she desired.

She said, "All right, now put your hands out front where I can see them."

Both were confused, which was also by Elizabeth's design.

Elizabeth said, "Now, we will do some scaling using comparisons and thresholds. I want the two of you to think of a scale of attraction between two people. We shall say that 1 is a couple that can barely tolerate each other, say our parents. 5 is a couple that rubs along well enough but is not particularly in love, say Lady Lucas and Sir William. 10 is a couple fully in a loving union of respect, felicity and love. Thank Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, or Mary and William. Do you have that in your mind?"

Both nodded, which had the side effect of making them bump their heads since they had unconsciously pressed themselves into tighter contact than even Elizabeth had insisted on.

Now, when I clap my hands, I want you both to raise the number of fingers that you _think you might have with the other if you could just get over your fear._"

She waited almost a minute to build up tension, and then clapped her hands.

She was most gratified to see a total of 20 fingers.

She laughed, then walked over to the couple, took her boot and dragged a line in the dirt in front of Jane's feet, and another in front of Mr. Jameson. Then she walked in front of Jane and dragged two so her lines in the dirt made a square.

She pointed down at the square, and said, "Do you see those lines?"

Both nodded, so she said, "That is your box. You both want the same thing, and you really had no need for my services at all. I will accept my superfluousness if you will both turn around… but stay in your box."

With a laugh, both members of the newly acknowledged couple did manage to turn around and face each other, though it was a tumultuous few minutes of holding each other up by arms, and then wrapping their arms completely around each other before the maneuver was completed. Once facing each other, they smiled and laughed a bit.

Elizabeth said, "I am turning around now. Enjoy the last few minutes before your boxes open again. Goodbye."

* * *

A few hours later, Elizabeth was sitting in the parlor with Jane. The couple had decided on a proper formal courtship. Permission had been asked and granted. Elizabeth was happy to see that they had not wildly jumped into a betrothal or marriage. She thought the result to be inevitable, but they both had some healing and learning to do. They had all the time in the world, but if they started out on the wrong foot, it might take years to correct. Better to make corrections now when it was easier.

Elizabeth said, "Jane, I am quite satisfied with the outcome, but you know perfectly well you did not need me at all."

Jane laughed, and said, "Elizabeth, I fear you must have mixed up your box with someone else's. You picked up some false modesty, and I for one do not care for it."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Well…"

Jane continued, "I am not like you, Lizzy, but I am also not a complete mathematical simpleton either. Shall I give you my analysis."

Elizabeth just nodded.

Jane smiled, and said, "You are two for two. 100% success rate. 0% failure rate. 4 courtships per annum since entering the trade. 20% complete with your task of marrying off the Bennet sisters. Number 1 most successful matchmaker in Meryton. ∞ times better than our mother. 9 months from completing your task at the current pace. 10/10 average over 2 samples in Lizzy's Affection Scale. Favorite sister for 2/4 Bennet sisters… oh, dear, I need to simplify to 1/2. Shall I continue?"

By then, Elizabeth was laughing along with her, so she said, "Do not forget first spinster."

The two chuckled a bit longer, and Jane finally asked, "By the way, Lizzy. What is the answer. What came first, the Chicken or the Egg."

Elizabeth said, "Why the answer is obvious. It was clearly the egg."

Jane looked perplexed, and said, "So you are wiser than Aristotle and all the ancients?"

Elizabeth said, "Yes, I am… although I confess my wisdom is limited to listening to a six‑year‑old's answer and adopting it as my own."

"How so?"

"It was Emily Goulding. Her father makes a study of fossils and talked about them quite often with her, at some length. I got to listen to some of the discussion, and it was absolutely fascinating."

"And?"

"Well, her grandmother asked her the age‑old question, and Emily said, and I quote since it was so perfect, 'The egg of course.' When asked to explain her reasoning, she said, 'There were all sorts of creatures like fish, ants and insects _long_ before there were chickens, and they laid eggs.'"

Jane gasped, and Elizabeth continued, "Like a lot of conundrums, it was a framing error. Nobody ever says it has to be a _chicken egg_. It is just an invalidating assumption."

"So!"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "So, it made no real difference what I did. You and Mr. Jameson knew what you wanted, but just did not know how to get it. Asking me to help was just a trick both of you used to do what you knew in your heart you wanted to do but were too afraid to ask. It almost did not matter what I said. Had I decided to chastise you both for a half‑hour in Spanish, or made the two of you learn Chess together, it would have had the same effect."

Jane replied, "Protest all you want, Miss Two for Two."

* * *

_A/N: The title obviously (or obviously for people as old as me) came from the classic 1962 song Little Boxes by Malvina Reynolds, first popularized by Pete Seger. You can find it on YouTube. _

_Somewhat surprisingly, people are still asking for more math, so I need to recalibrate to my audience. I did add a couple suggestions from the reviewers to my first draft. _

_The answer to the Chicken and Egg came from the 5-year old son of Science Fiction author James Hogan who used to live near me. The boy used Dinosaurs as the example, but Dinosaurs had not been discovered yet in JA's time. _

_Next up… You guessed it._

_Wade_


	16. Parsonage

"Lizzy, _your_ Mr. Darcy has arrived at Rosings with his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. They will call in a quarter‑hour."

Elizabeth laughed, and replied, "William, for the rest of my life I will rue the day Mary and I decided to teach you to tease. He is most assuredly not _my_ Mr. Darcy; unless of course you mean something more like _my _nemesis, or possibly the bane of _my_ existence, _my_ handsomeness evaluator, or perhaps the source of _my_ frustrations. If he is calling today, it is either basic politeness, curiosity, or Lady Catherine has driven him mad with boredom already."

Mary said, "Yes, that would explain it, for we all know that _Mr. Darcy is all politeness!_"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I always wondered if you heard that. Sir William was truly more insufferable than usual that night."

Mary smirked and replied, "Well, you missed the best part. Before you arrived, Sir William spent some time talking about the refinement of dancing or some such nonsense. Mr. Darcy said, and I quote, _'Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance.'_"

Elizabeth smiled and said, "Yes, that sounds like something he would say. It is difficult to tell sometimes if he is being condescending, or if he just has a subtle and sarcastic sense of humor. I suppose he must have been quite annoyed when, but a minute or two later, Sir William presented him with Meryton's principle savage and tried to force him into the detested activity. I am amazed he managed to keep his response down to his usual scowl. I think I would have needed words with Sir William."

"Yes, indeed! He _did_ however ask you to dance… twice, by my count."

"Yes, well he is a perplexing man. He actually might have asked me thrice, although the second was decidedly odd… well, when you get right down to it, they were all odd."

"Yes, odd indeed. Who would think a man like that would dance. Quite odd indeed!"

William Collins chuckled at his new sister and the way she teased her way through life. Mr. Collins was finding that he liked all his sisters exceedingly, even Kitty and Lydia who had visited for a fortnight in early March. Of course, his Mary was the best, but Elizabeth was and would always be his second favorite.

Elizabeth looked at her brother in law in wonder. Who would ever have guessed that a mere four months of marriage to her sister Mary, just the time from Christmas to Easter, would turn the bumbling, stumbling, awkward man who had arrived at Longbourn exactly 8 days and 4 hours before the Netherfield Ball, into the nicest and sweetest man she had ever had the pleasure of knowing?

There were obvious changes anyone could see. Mr. Collins now stood up straight, instead of hunched over. He was a tall man, and Mary encouraged him to look like one. He was still on the heavy side, but not nearly as heavy as he had been. Most importantly though, he had gotten over the debilitating nervousness that had made a boy who grew up with an illiterate, miserly and cruel father sound like a bumbling fool. In fact, his natural intelligence had been allowed to flower, and living with an intelligent wife who was not afraid to speak her mind did not hurt. Regular bathing and better clothing completed the effect, to the point where he was hardly recognizable. Elizabeth reckoned that love was a very powerful thing.

Collins replied, "Ah, but _your_ nemesis and his cousin started out asserting that they would call in a day or two, as you might expect, but then when I mentioned _you_ were visiting, _they_ decided it was only polite to call immediately."

Elizabeth laughed again, shook her finger at her naughty brother in law and said, "Come, come, William. I spent four days cooped up with Mr. Darcy in Netherfield, whilst I doubt that he could distinguish Mary from Charlotte on a bet. The level of acquaintance suggests he should call sooner. That is all it is."

Collins nodded his head sagely, rubbed his chin with his hand, and said, "Ah, manners! Why did I not think of that, what with Mr. Darcy being well renowned for decorum. Why, when he left Hertfordshire, his politeness was quite plain for all to see. None of this awkward leave‑taking and that sort of thing."

Elizabeth stared at him trying to get him to stop, but eventually giggled, and said, "You win, William. I have not the slightest idea why he is coming to visit. I will attend him with my usual civility."

"Shall I call for the apothecary or the undertaker then?"

They had only settled down for a moment when the doorbell rang, and a few minutes later, the maid announced the two expected guests.

_Colonel Fitzwilliam, who led the way, was about thirty, not handsome, but in person and address most truly the gentleman. Mr. Darcy looked just as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, paid his compliments, with his usual reserve, to Mrs. Collins; and whatever might be his feelings towards her sister, met her with every appearance of composure. Elizabeth merely curtseyed to him, without saying a word._

_Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man and talked very pleasantly. _

Elizabeth thought Colonel Fitzwilliam was amiable, and a worthwhile conversationalist, so long as she disregarded the fact that he reminded her so much of Mr. Bingley as to make it hard to take him seriously. Fortunately, she expected to spend very little time with either gentleman, so taking either of them seriously was neither necessary nor desirable. She thought that they might spend a few more or less pleasant afternoons at Rosings during the gentlemen's visit, perhaps a dinner or two, and that would be the end of the matter.

Mr. Darcy on the other hand, _after having addressed a slight observation on the house and garden to Mrs. Collins, sat for some time without speaking to anybody. At length, however, his civility was so far awakened as to enquire of Elizabeth after the health of her family. She answered him in the usual way, _but then stopped herself just short of asking if he had known Jane was in London.

Elizabeth reckoned that there was very little chance the gentleman was aware of her sister in any way, since their circles did not overlap by even a little bit. If they made a Venn Diagram of their overlapping connections, the only people on the overlapped area would be the two whose names were no longer spoken. Other than that, in the normal course of things, their circles of acquaintance would be so far apart as to take two pages to properly graph it out.

Instead of asking him any such thing, Elizabeth tried plying him with the most banal chatter she could come up with, and eventually, after some effort, managed to learn that the ride from London had been made without mishap, and that the weather was agreeable.

After the proper time for such a call, the gentlemen took their leaves and departed. Mr. Darcy gave her a somewhat disconcerting stare before bowing and leaving in the usual manner.

Mary asked, "What was that all about, Lizzy?"

"I have no idea, Mary. I suppose he is angry that I am aware he does not do ordinary conversation well, and he is annoyed that I dragged him into one. On the other hand, he could perfectly well have avoided it by staying at Rosings."

"Yes, with the scintillating conversations of Lady Catherine and her family", Mary added laughingly.

Elizabeth smiled along, and said, "Well, he is a bit of a conundrum. He dislikes ordinary conversation, but he takes no effort to engage in something livelier. He did occasionally show some intelligence and spirit when Jane was convalescing at Netherfield, in the few instances when we escaped the mistress of the house's cloying chatter, so why not say something intelligent?"

Mary giggled, and said, "Yes, indeed. Why would he not bring up Hypatia or Shakespeare in response to your question about the state of the road that you traveled yourself less than a fortnight ago."

"Yes, indeed!"

Mary turned a bit more serious, and said, "Truly, Lizzy… what was that look he gave you when he left?"

"I have no idea, Mary! I have not the slightest idea. I would think he has a complete and accurate list of my faults, and he seems intelligent enough to keep them in his head. I frankly have no theory at all as to what he is thinking."

"Perhaps, Lizzy, he is not _thinking _at all."

Elizabeth laughed, and debated the merits of tickling her sister versus finding a cushion from the sofa to throw at her, and eventually decided the moment had passed. After a few more minutes of chatting with her family, Elizabeth decided to take a turn about the gardens before supper.


	17. Rosings

Unsurprisingly, it was another week before the Collins party was invited to Rosings again. During that time, they saw little of Lady Catherine or her daughter. Elizabeth rightly assumed it was because she found her nephews company more agreeable than the occupants of the parsonage. Of course, they were more of her rank and family so they would naturally be considered better company; but it was also possible that they had the added benefit of being more complaisant.

Mary's first few months in Hunsford had involved a long‑running contest of wills between her and Lady Catherine, with the lady of the manor interested in instructing everyone within five miles how they should live their lives. Mary had made a good impression by listening to the advice that was good; and a not so good impression by ignoring that which was not; or worse yet, telling the lady _why _it was not.

Mary finally won the lady over to her way of thinking one day when she encountered a truly perplexing problem, difficult enough that she was tempted to write to Elizabeth, whom everyone agreed was the cleverest of the Bennets. Instead, she asked for a private meeting with Lady Catherine, laid out the entire issue, and was a bit surprised to get a very clever answer that would never in a thousand years have occurred to her.

Kitty and Lydia's visit in early March had given the lady a chance to interrogate them endlessly on their upbringing and chastise them mercilessly on any breaks in decorum. The lady had been surprised when Lydia asked her point blank to explain _why _she should act a particular way on an occasion early in their acquaintance. Feeling a bit put out that the young lady would not just take a superior at her word, she thought about it for a while and then proceeded to explain _in grueling detail._ When Lydia listened carefully, came to agreement, thanked her very kindly for her advice, and said she would do her best to comply; an alliance of sorts had been forged. So long as Lady Catherine was willing to explain and defend her position, both young ladies looked to her for guidance.

By the time Elizabeth arrived, everyone was on good terms, but Lady Catherine still found their company both exhilarating and occasionally exhausting. A week with her nephews whom she had known since birth, and who rarely disagreed with her, must have been very restful.

During the intervening week, Colonel Fitzwilliam visited the parsonage a few times, but Elizabeth thought he was likely just bored. He had the choice of two pretty and witty young women, one unmarried, in the parsonage; and his ancient and cantankerous aunt and two cousins, one timid as a church mouse and the other stoic and brooding at Rosings, so Elizabeth judged it was not that much of a contest.

After church on Easter, which consisted of a sermon William and Mary had worked out between them, while completely ignoring a good deal of well‑meaning advice from Lady Catherine, they received a request to take the half‑mile journey that evening.

_The invitation was accepted of course, and at a proper hour they joined the party in Lady Catherine's drawing-room. Her ladyship received them civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact, almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room._

_Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; anything was a welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs. Collins's pretty sister had moreover caught his fancy very much. He now seated himself by her, and talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so well entertained in that room before._

Elizabeth found the discussion interesting and entertaining, which she mostly attributed to her low expectations. During all previous interactions with the Colonel, she found him to be mostly indistinguishable from the other man whose name was never mentioned, so she expected, and received, nothing more. She thought of an analogy that she should just keep to herself. Talking to the Colonel was much akin to playing with a puppy. The play itself was entertaining, so long as you remembered it was a puppy and did not expect too much.

Mr. Darcy watched their discussion with apparent curiosity, but unsurprisingly, he made no effort to join or contribute to it. Lady Catherine demanded to know what they were talking about, and with a great heaving sigh of annoyance, the Colonel chose one of their previous topics at random.

"Music. We were talking of music", replied the Colonel at length.

_"Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply."_

The lady carried on for some further time in that vein, and Elizabeth quit listening while she watched Mr. Darcy out of curiosity. She reckoned that Mr. Darcy did not resemble a puppy in any way. The gentleman had a short conversation with his aunt about the ever‑accomplished Miss Darcy, which consisted mostly of Lady Catherine spitting out instruction after instruction, while Mr. Darcy replied as if each word had to be laboriously carved out of stone.

Lady Catherine invited Elizabeth to practice in Mrs. Jenkinson's room, where she would be 'in nobody's way', and Elizabeth watched Mr. Darcy choke back a response at the rudeness of the suggestion. She choked back a giggle at the original suggestion and his aborted response, so an outside observer would not have detected either party showing very much reaction. She was not really offended, because if she was to practice, which was as likely as a snowstorm in April, she would much prefer to do so in the suggested location, which would be guaranteed to be free of both Lady Catherine and the gentlemen. She could, however, see that Mr. Darcy was quite put out, but not enough to challenge his aunt directly.

Elizabeth barely dragged her attention back to the discussion when Lady Catherine started a somewhat familiar refrain.

_"Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss if she practised more, and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne's. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn."_

_Elizabeth looked at Darcy to see how cordially he assented to his cousin's praise; but neither at that moment nor at any other could she discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of his behaviour to Miss de Bourgh she derived this comfort for Miss Bingley, that he might have been just as likely to marry her, had she been his relation._

Deciding it was finally her turn to brace the dragon in her lair, Elizabeth put her sweetest smile on her face she was capable of, and said, "Excuse me, Lady Catherine, do you mind if I ask a personal question?"

Everyone in the room looked at her, as nobody ever deliberately pushed Lady Catherine in a direction that could consume hours, wondering what she was about.

"Most certainly, Miss Bennet. _My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness._"

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Yes, I noticed that about you right away. Would you mind telling me about your childhood illness? You seem to have recovered quite well. Was it very terrible? It is a subject of some fascination to me, and I am hoping Miss de Bourgh will tell me of hers as well, if you do not find the question impertinent or intrusive."

Stunned silence greeted the question, but Elizabeth kept her rapt and curious expression aimed at Lady Catherine.

The great lady fumed for a moment more, and finally said, "What an odd question! What possessed you to think I was ill as a child. I have the Fitzwilliam constitution. I have never been ill a day in my life, but perhaps Anne will condescend to satisfy your thirst for information."

Quite to everyone's surprise, Anne quite calmly replied, "I shall be happy to talk with you as much as you like Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth smiled hugely at her, nodded in acknowledgement, and asked, "I am at your disposal, Miss de Bourgh. Perhaps we could ride out in your phaeton sometime?

"Yes, of course. Perhaps tomorrow."

Elizabeth noted a gleam of anticipation in the young heiress's eyes and thought it might well turn out to be a fascinating day. She thought that would be an interesting discussion, and she could hardly wait to get started. Before that though, she turned her attention back on Lady Catherine.

"My pardon about the impertinent question, Lady Catherine. I am afraid my native curiosity has been my downfall again. It is a wretched nuisance sometimes. You see, I have been reading extensively about _logic_ and _philosophy_ this year. I have been absorbing everything from Aristotle to Francis Bacon, and was trying out the methods. I came to the obviously incorrect conclusion about your potential illness using _deductive reasoning_, which is useful but occasionally in error if you make mistakes in evaluation of the initial evidence. I seem to have run afoul there, so I hope I have not offended you."

She did not particularly care if she had offended the great lady, but it was always best to be polite if it could be managed.

Lady Catherine gasped, and said very stridently, "Logic… Philosophy… Those are not appropriate subjects for a gently bred young lady."

Elizabeth calmly said, "I am surprised you said that, Lady Catherine… perhaps I will need to redouble my efforts, as I am still failing in my logical pursuits. Why, based on logic alone, I would have expected _you_ to be _the very last woman in the world_ to place such a stricture. I suspect it would be best to leave the topic."

_"Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done"_, asserted the lady, adding, "You have now presented two topics of some confusion, and I will not be satisfied until they are answered. What could you possibly mean?"

Much to Elizabeth's surprise, Mr. Darcy chuckled, smiled, and answered, "Aunt, Miss Bennet may well be the cleverest woman I have ever known, but this particular bit of discourse is not _quite _so confusing. She has presented two, shall we call them 'puzzles'. I can easily understand the first, but the second is a bit of a mystery."

Elizabeth stared at the man in some confusion. The grin on his face was unusual, the chuckle was unprecedented, and his defense of her argument was alarming. Besides that, she had to sheepishly admit to herself (but not a single other soul in the whole wide world), that he was exceedingly handsome when he did not look quite so foreboding.

Lady Catherine dragged her attention back to the group, asking, "Well, Miss Elizabeth. It looks like my nephew has laid down the gauntlet. Perhaps you could you explain your second mystery, without introducing any more since we do not have all night."

Elizabeth tore her scattered attention from the ever-confusing Mr. Darcy to Lady Catherine and stared at the matron in confusion.

Lady Catherine leaned forward and said, "Miss Bennet, thirty‑three years ago I was your age, and about double your impertinence. I do not scare easily."

For the first time in quite a number of years, everyone in Lady Catherine de Bourgh's drawing room laughed uproariously, if somewhat confusedly, and Elizabeth wondered what was happening.

Lady Catherine looked at her carefully, and said, "Well, Miss Bennet. We await enlightenment, wonder and astonishment at your astute observations."

"Well, to fully answer the question about why I am surprised you would advocate against women perusing such subjects, I shall need to use a few numbers and an anecdote or two. I hope you will not mind."

_"I am not afraid of you," said Lady Catherine, smilingly._

"Well, I should hope not!", she replied with her own smile, then continued.

"You see, I was chatting with your steward about a week ago - lovely man, and his wife makes scones I would willingly kill or die for, but I digress. We talked about the fields in the Northwest corner of the home farm, about a mile from the parsonage. I was interested in them because they had a type of flower I did not know, but my native curiosity got too much to bear. They are also adjacent to the glebe, which William has been considering cultivating or renting out, so the yields should be similar."

She looked around and noticed everyone was paying rapt attention.

William could not resist adding, "At your direction, Dear Sister."

Everyone shifted their attention to him for a moment, so he added, "Elizabeth suggested it, and even worked out the finances for me. We have started making plans already."

Surprisingly, Mr. Darcy said, "Well done, Sir! If I may assist your endeavor in any way, please ask."

"My thanks, Mr. Darcy. I will accept your generous offer should the need arise… but I believe in interrupted my sister. Elizabeth…"

Elizabeth smiled at her brother, liking him more and more as time went on before continuing.

"Lady Catherine, your steward told me that the yields on that field increased by over 25% in the past twenty years. For example, the yields on wheat have increased from around 13 bushels/acre to nearly 17. The rye part of the cycle has increased from around 14 to 17. All in all, quite an impressive improvement, I should say."

Lady Catherine replied, "Yes, they have. I attribute it mostly to using the Norfolk four‑course system of crop rotation. Are you familiar with it?"

Elizabeth blushed and said, "I am. I tried to get my father to adopt it without success. William, Mary and I are trying to work out a way to sneak it in under his nose… to all our mutual benefit. I discussed it at some length with Mr. Mallon."

"And this applies to your current 'mystery' how, exactly?"

Elizabeth said, "Well, Lady Catherine… unless your family bible is not to be trusted, your husband has been gone for around twenty years. When the change to the four-course system was implemented, your two trustworthy nephews were around eight years old. Unless your brother the Earl was much more active than it would appear in managing Rosings, Occam's razor suggests it was you who implemented the change. Am I correct?"

Lady Catherine sat quite still for a moment, until Elizabeth began to feel she had disrupted her fragile alliance with the lady, and then she suddenly chuckled, and let it raise to a bit of a laugh.

The lady finally said, "You have caught me out, Miss Bennet. I now understand your mystery. You found no evidence anybody but me implemented the change, so you are asserting that I myself engage in such unladylike pursuits as study of crop rotation and the like. Purely deductive reasoning, just as you say."

Elizabeth left her seat to walk closer, sat on an empty stool near Lady Catherine, and said, "Lady Catherine, your nephews come here for a fortnight a year, or perhaps three weeks. That leaves you as mistress for 49-50 weeks per annum, or 94‑96% of the time. People in the village are reasonably happy and prosperous, whilst being quite dependent on Rosings for their living. The estate is hardly falling down around your ears, so am I wrong in asserting that you are a _good _master for the estate - either despite, or more likely _because of_ your sex?"

The lady just chuckled, and said, "Well, well… I have been waiting for someone to best me at a battle of wits for some time. I graciously concede, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Your defeat does not seem so awfully terrible, Lady Catherine."

They looked at each other for half a minute, and then Lady Catherine looked over at Darcy. He was looking at the pair of them as if he had never seen anything quite like it in his life, which was probably a fair assessment. He was watching the conversation carefully with a look of appreciation on his face.

Lady Catherine said, "Well, Darcy… perhaps you might explain the first mystery, since you seem so inclined to demonstrate your cleverness."

Surprising both Elizabeth and Lady Catherine, Darcy said, "Well, you may not come off so well in that one, Aunt. Should we leave well enough alone?"

"Not on your life."

Darcy said, "Well, before I do that, I fear I must dispute with Miss Bennet on the description of her methodology."

Elizabeth looked at him in curiosity and found she could not quite read the expression on his face. In an ordinary man it might look a lot like a mischievous smirk, but in that gentleman, it had both a softer and harder feel, as if he had shut his emotions away in a drawer for several years, and they did not quite fit any more. Considering he became master of an estate larger than Rosings at about her age, she reckoned that might actually be the case.

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "In the famous words of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I am not afraid of you, Mr. Darcy," with her own rough equivalent of a mischievous smile_._

Darcy actually _smiled_, which surprised Elizabeth so much she returned one of her own, and then reflected that it might be the first unforced smile she had ever given the gentleman.

He continued, "Well, Miss Elizabeth. You asserted that you used _deductive reasoning_ to arrive at your conclusion, whilst I will maintain it was _abductive reasoning._"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Present your case, Sir!"

He continued, "Deductive reasoning relies on a general statement or hypothesis—sometimes called a premise or standard—held to be true. The premise is used to reach a specific, logical conclusion, based on known associations. You work from known facts to the specific case in point. Humans are only born to mothers therefore all humans have a mother. Or all female mammals produce milk, humans are mammals, so all human females produce milk."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "Yes, that seems a good definition."

Darcy continued, "Inductive reasoning starts from known things and tries to generalize. All the gentleman a lady knows have been disagreeable in the past. The lady is going to meet a gentleman. She is due a disagreeable time."

Elizabeth laughed at that, and said, "Did you get that example from a textbook, Mr. Darcy?"

She had to sheepishly admit to herself that this particular flavor of Mr. Darcy was quite agreeable.

He grinned, and said, "No, but it seemed appropriate. Now we come to your case. Abductive reasoning fills in missing pieces that would be necessary to make use deductive reasoning with the _most likely_ scenario, ideally based on a rational study of probabilities. You arrive home to find your favorite shoes torn to shreds. You have a new puppy in your room. You might reason that the puppy tore up the shoes, not being aware that your youngest sister has a propensity to the same act, though it is less likely."

Elizabeth laughed quite uproariously about that one, and said, "Well, Mr. Darcy. That is in fact a perfect example. I yield to your superior education. The question was in fact prompted by abductive reasoning."

Darcy stood and bowed formally, which just about sent Elizabeth off into another burst of giggles.

He stood back straight, and said, "Well, Lady Catherine, we return to the first mystery. Miss Bennet knows that a lady of your station is _expected_ to have music as an _accomplishment_. You yourself asserted a genuine talent in the art. You also asserted that ill children cannot apply themselves. Miss Bennet just generalized to imagine you must have been ill as a child, since nothing else she could think of would explain your abundance of talent but dearth of application, considering how much you emphasize the need of practice for _others _in your sphere."

Much to everyone's surprise, Lady Catherine chuckled at the result, then laughed a bit.

She finally said, "I see you have abandoned Mr. Occam entirely, Miss Elizabeth. You forgot that the simplest explanation is usually the best."

"Which is?"

Lady Catherine chuckled, and said, "I was lazy. Your younger sisters are paragons of industry compared to my early life."

Elizabeth wondered if she should be amused or mortified, but Lady Catherine laughed again, and said, "I cannot ever remember being better entertained in this room. Ill child indeed!"

They proceeded into supper which was much livelier than it had been in the past, and at the appropriate time, the Collins party left for the parsonage.

For the second time, Elizabeth found herself being handed into a carriage by Mr. Darcy quite by surprise, and for the second time, he seemed to squeeze it just a touch more than propriety demanded.

She thought, "Perplexing, perplexing, vexing man!", and continued to ruminate on his confusing nature until sleep finally overcame her.


	18. The Parlor

_Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to Jane while _Mary and William were _gone on business into the village, when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of a visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be Lady Catherine, and under that apprehension was putting away her half-finished letter that she might escape all impertinent questions, when the door opened, and, to her very great surprise, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy only, entered the room._

_He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologised for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all the ladies were to be within._

_They then sat down, and when her inquiries after Rosings were made, seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. _

Elizabeth was thinking as hard as she could for a topic of conversation, when a sudden thought occurred to her. Why was it _her_ duty to provide conversation, when it was _his_ choice to visit. She could think of all sorts of conversational gambits on his behalf, such as, _'Well Miss Bennet, I find myself alone and unchaperoned, so I should depart'_, or possibly, _'Well, Miss Bennet, I thought we might discuss my very abrupt departure from Netherfield, and my present inclination to pretend the whole thing never happened'_, or perhaps, _'I came to visit despite the fact that I really have nothing to say'_, or her absolute favorite, _'Miss Bennet, I must confess truthfully that I do not have the vaguest idea what I am doing here… do you think you might enlighten me?'_

Without being aware, Elizabeth slightly smiled at the last thought. She reckoned that this particular flavor of _Silent Mr. Darcy_ was the best one yet; but she could accomplish just about the same thing without risk to her reputation by asking William to construct a scarecrow that resembled the gentleman that she could just carry from place to place; or perhaps she could work with Mary to create a doll that would serve the same purpose but with less inconvenience. She could just pull it from her reticule any time she wanted a partner who would not inconvenience her with excessive chatter.

Elizabeth was just about to laugh at her own cleverness, singularly unconcerned about whether Mr. Darcy was uncomfortable or not, but thought that would be to rude even by her lax standards, so she simply cleared her throat and waited.

_He took the hint, and soon began with, "This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford."_

_"I believe she did–and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object._ Indeed, Mary was a bit worried before she arrived, but found nearly everything Lady Catherine did to be sensible and practical._"_

_"Mr. Collins appears to be very fortunate in his choice of a wife."_

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Yes, indeed he is. I quite believe he has the very best wife in England. You never knew him before, so you cannot see the transformation. He is the dearest sweetest man in the world, but he was raised by a father that was… let us say… err… less than ideal. He was so nervous when he met us that he acted quite out of character. I fear William probably came off as a pompous fool when he introduced himself to you at that ridiculous ball last winter, but with the love and acceptance and guidance of a good wife, he has… well, I cannot come up with the right term… flowered would be the right sentiment, but too un-masculine…"

She belatedly realized, much to her dismay, that she was quite uncharacteristically blathering on for no particular reason; but she thought she should not compound the injury by stopping in the middle of a sentence.

She finished somewhat meekly, "At any rate, both of them are indeed fortunate, and we could not be happier."

Elizabeth found she did not particularly want to endure any comparisons with her mother, and wondered what in the world would make her give so many unsolicited and unwanted details to Mr. Darcy of all people?

She took a breath, but with a man as taciturn and silent as Mr. Darcy, there was plenty of time to recover.

"I do apologize, Mr. Darcy. I did not intend to rattle on like my mother."

The man looked a bit uncomfortable, but was gentlemanly enough to say, "Actually, Miss Bennet… I find it refreshing. People very rarely say anything real to me, so I suggest thanks are in order, rather than censure."

Elizabeth just raised her eyebrow in confusion, thinking nobody ever said anything true to him because he did not invite such, but instead stumbled with "Well…"

Before she could continue, he carried on in what seemed to be a nervous voice.

_"It must be very agreeable for her to be settled within so easy a distance of her own family and friends."_

_"An easy distance, do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles."_

_"And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day's journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance."_

_"I should never have considered the distance as one of the advantages of the match," cried Elizabeth. "I should never have said Mrs. Collins was settled near her family."_

_"It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Anything beyond the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far."_

At that point, Elizabeth was both wondering why he was so concerned with the matter, and if it was possible for him to be any more condescending… or…

With a start, Elizabeth thought for the very first time that perhaps he was _unaware _of how he came off. A man like that no doubt spent his entire life around his social peers and was probably hunted for sport by mothers like hers. Perhaps he had just _never learnt_, like his aunt. It was a curious thought, and she thought to perform a mild thought experiment. For the last few days of his visit, during the infrequent times she thought about him at all, she would, in her own mind, replace the term 'haughtiness' with 'shy' or 'awkward', and do the same for all synonyms or other words with similar flavors. It would be interesting to see if it changed her views on the perplexing man.

However, practicality reared its ugly head, and she had still not answered him.

"Well, Mr. Darcy… I am not certain I would call it an 'easy distance', though it is certainly not insurmountable. As you say, fifty miles of good road might be a trifle for a man of your wealth. For us of a more Plebian nature, a seat on the post costs 1d/mile, which is quite a bargain, probably less than 1/10 of what you would pay to make the same mile. We would go through London, which is slightly longer than your 50 miles, but not that much. Let us say 60 miles. That would mean a trip to Meryton and back for a couple would be a little over a pound. It is unlikely they would make it in a single day, but for the sake of argument let us assume they could stay with our relatives in London at minimal cost, so we need not add the cost of lodging. Add the cost of a vicar to deliver the sermon, and it would cost approximately £1-2 altogether. As you say, it is an amount that the Collins family can well afford, but not necessarily something they would want to do regularly. With two days travel each direction, you would also consume a week of absence from your duties for each two days of visiting."

Darcy absorbed that, and said, "I find it fascinating that you understand finance and numbers to that level, Miss Bennet. It is most unusual."

Feeling a bit peevish about the condescension in the statement, Elizabeth said somewhat angrily, "Mr. Darcy, when a man praises his dog for flushing game well, or defending his home well, the praise is warranted. If you praise him excessively for getting up from the kennel and refraining from marking your boots as his territory, it is less appropriate."

The man looked perplexed, and he finally said, "I do not understand."

Elizabeth herself did not understand, as she had not intended to say so much, but she was not one to back down from a challenge.

"Mr. Darcy, just in the past four months I have changed several people's lives with mathematics. Everything from cannonball trajectories to compound interest has been put at my disposal. Praising me for simple multiplication is…"

With the thought of trajectories, Elizabeth suddenly realized that the trajectory of this particular conversation was not in an auspicious direction. Too late to stop the cannonball, she decided to at least deflect it.

"My apologies, Mr. Darcy. I assume you did not come here to argue. Please forget that entire exchange."

He leaned forward, and said, "No, I think not. I wish your manners had stayed unengaged enough to finish the sentence. Since your basic goodness prevents such a thing, allow me to try. The most proper finish to what you said would be, '_condescending and rude.'"_

Elizabeth stared at him, and he continued, "You need not agree or disagree, Miss Bennet. Truth is truth, even though we have an entire code of propriety and decorum designed to hide it at every turn. Can you at least agree to that?"

Completely off balance, Elizabeth just nodded.

He said more softly, "I do not often get taken to task, Miss Bennet. You were correct… it was condescending, even if you were too polite to say it. May I offer an apology, or more importantly, may I offer a commitment to try to amend my ways. I thought it was a compliment when I said it, and when I explain the conversation to my sister, even at sixteen, she will firmly assert that I am a lunkhead of the worst order and send me to bed without supper."

Elizabeth could not help laughing at that final statement, and said, "Well, well… who would have thought. Mr. Darcy has a sense of humor…"

Then she stopped abruptly and was certain she blushed.

Mr. Darcy, to her surprise laughed, and said, "So, perhaps I am not the only person in Kent to suffer from a surfeit of pride or confusion?"

The smile on his face eliminated any sting that might have come from the assertion, so Elizabeth just said, "Perhaps."

Her next statement was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, and the entry of the Collins family. Mary was chatting brightly with William, which considering the topic of their short tête-à-tête, probably disconcerted the gentleman… or perhaps, being caught in a potentially compromising situation by one of the highly suspect Bennet women left him fearful for his reputation.

Whatever the motive, Mr. Darcy jumped from the chair as if he had suddenly found Mrs. Bennet sitting a foot to his left and Lady Catherine a foot on his right, made a deep bow and started for the door. When he reached the Collins family, he paused long enough to take his leave with brief but proper civility and walked away at a brisk clip.

Mary wandered over to her sister, and said, "What in the world have you done to our poor Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "_I have no idea!_"

Mary laughed, and said, "You must shift your thinking Elizabeth. You are no longer talking to a lunkhead. You cannot fool me, so do not even try."

Elizabeth laughed, reached over and kissed her sister on the cheek, and replied, "You have caught me out, Mary. I was talking about you."

"How so?"

"I told the gentleman the shocking news that a good wife can be the making of a man. I think I may have overloaded his mind."

Mary just shook her head, and said, "_He must be in love with you, or he would never have called us in this familiar way._ It sounds like you either made him even more in live with you or drove him away. It is hard to say which._"_

"I think not. I believe he is like the Colonel… bored at Rosings and looking for diversion. When he entered, he was surprised to find me alone, and then I think he just could not think of a good way to escape."

"If you say so, Lizzy… but you must admit, it is… peculiar."

Elizabeth said, "Perhaps, but think on this. _All field sports are over. Within doors there is Lady Catherine, books, and a billiard-table, but gentlemen cannot always be within doors. _I suppose he finds the two of us amusing, so thought to use up a few hours of his duty visit being entertained by us."

Mary stared at her a moment, and said, "Lizzy, I know you are the mistress of uncomfortable conversations, but, allow me my share of the duty for just a bit."

Elizabeth tried to laugh, but it came out somewhat strangled. She finally said, "Go on."

Mary said, "No matter how much I tease you Elizabeth, I would never wish you to be unhappy. You know how much I love my husband, but you also must admit that such would have to be the most fortunate fluke in history. When you did your magic on him, I was only looking for a roof over my head and a man that was not entirely disagreeable."

Elizabeth just nodded.

Mary said, "Now think on this rationally. I sometimes like to boil complex problems down to one simple true or false question, with many variations and sub-variations. Do you agree?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"All right… True or False… Mr. Darcy is in love with you."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "All the evidence is false, Mary."

Mary said, "Not all the evidence, but most of it I will agree. There is no harm in assuming it is false and living your life accordingly. But suppose… well just suppose Lizzy that the answer was true. When you found out, what would you do?"

Elizabeth said, "I have no idea. I suppose it would depend on how I found out."

"But think on it. Suppose such an awkward man offered for you. We can assume it would be at least as bad as William's proposal. How would you react?"

Exasperated, Elizabeth said, "I may as well conjecture on what I would do if I were a man, or a sudden heiress, or struck by lightning. It is so far fetched it is not worth the effort of thinking about it."

"Me doth think…"

Elizabeth snapped, "Do not even finish that sentence, Mary."

Mary gently took her sister's hand and said, "Well, then indulge me, Lizzy. Suppose he did. What would happen?"

Elizabeth said, "My head would explode, I think."

"And what happens when your head explodes, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth stared at the ground and said, "I lash out."

Mary smiled and nodded, saying, "Exactly! Prepare yourself, Lizzy. Think about how you would react in the unlikely event it happens. It is no different from what you did to protect all of us in the unlikely event our father ever left his library long enough to get himself killed. You need not have the answer, but you do need to be prepared to react with kindness, if nothing else. I do not say you have to be Jane… remember that she needed you to say what had to be said to Mr. Jameson and remember that it was up to you to set my husband on the straight and narrow path. Just give yourself the opportunity to ensure that your next awkward conversation does not do any more damage than necessary."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "How much is necessary?"

Mary shrugged, and said, "Who can say, but if you have to, stop in the middle of whatever you are doing and perform some arithmetic. It does not matter what it is, but you need your _logical mind _in all its glory if this extremely unlikely event ever occurs.

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "When did you get so wise, Sister."

Mary just hugged her, and said, "Remember this, Lizzy. I was just plain old Mary until you made me Mrs. Collins. Whatever wisdom I have is as much your responsibility as mine.

Elizabeth slapped her playfully on the shoulder, and said, "Not really, Mary… but I will take your advice. I will think deeply about the proper way to react if I am ever struck by lightning."


	19. The Lane

_A/N: Since all us fans have given quite a bit of thought and words and stories to the famous walks in the woods at Rosings, I thought I would go back to canon and bone up on it. Guess what I found! Exactly __1 paragraph__. Granted it's a bit of a run‑on paragraph of 250 words, but one paragraph. I am all astonishment. He met her exactly 3 times on walks in canon between his awkward meeting at the parsonage and her encounter with Fitzwilliam, along with an unspecified number of visits with the Colonel where he said little between March 30 and April 9. Is it any wonder Elizabeth had no idea what he was about?_

_Most of you seem to be enjoying this, despite a precipitous drop in the math and a noticeable trend towards fluff – or maybe it's because of that. Sometimes it's hard to tell a feature from a bug. At any rate, it's not __all__ rainbows and puppies from her on out, so the fluff will not go on forever… but… well, let's just get on with it._

_In this chapter, you will get a tiny bit of math, but as an added bonus, you will also get a lesson in civics, and on a topic that is actually relevant today._

_Wade_

* * *

"Mr. Darcy", Elizabeth exclaimed upon meeting him unexpectedly on her morning walk.

To be fair, she was walking quite near to Rosings Park, on a very nice path, and the gentleman was staying _at_ Rosings, so his presence on the path was not really shocking. Of course, she had never noticed him walking at Rosings, but he had walked any number of times with the sisters whose name was no longer spoken, so he _was_ familiar with the basic operation of his feet and legs in a park situation.

"Miss Bennet, good morning", he replied with an odd expression.

Elizabeth looked _askance_ at his _haughty_ expression, and then with almost a gasp, she remembered her promise to herself back in the parsonage. As subtly as possible, she pinched her arm to remind her of her promise, then set about implementing it. She promised to try out thinking about the man differently by substituting words in her inner thoughts. _Elizabeth looked __carefully__ at his __bashful__ expression_ and gave him a small curtsy.

"Good morning, Sir. Your presence was unexpected. I did not know you walked this way."

Careful to reword her every thought, with the idea the exercise might eventually train her recalcitrant mind to follow her edicts; Elizabeth watched the man give his _awkward _reply (see there, not prideful at all).

_"I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, _Miss Bennet_?" said he, as he joined her._

_"You certainly do," she replied with a smile; "but it does not follow that the interruption must be unwelcome."_

"Might I join you?"

Elizabeth on general principle liked to be as mathematically precise in her language as possible, whilst maintaining the necessary fudges politeness demanded. Fortunately, in this case, it was easy enough to make the answer that was both precise and polite.

"I do not object, Sir."

There it was. She did _not object_ to his presence, a substantial improvement. Neither did she _particularly desire_ his presence, but such a declaration was unnecessary. She had to admit to some curiosity, so perhaps her lack of objection could more precisely be defined as being closer to desiring than objecting, but then she thought she might consider less playing of confusing word games and more paying of attention to her companion.

She expected him to turn and walk with her, like he _tried _to do with the Netherfield Huntress. That lady grabbed his arm like a fishmonger hooking a fish, which was amusing in its own way. However, quite against her expectations, he smiled a bit, and offered his arm. She surprised herself by taking it without complaint, and even had to sheepishly admit to a small bit of enjoyment in the act.

Elizabeth had walked with any number of men in the past, but none of quite the caliber of her current partner. There were of course all the elder gentlemen of her father's generation she had grown up with, and the equally familiar (though mostly disagreeable) progeny, who had graduated from hair pulls and frogs to dancing and walking, without ever quite managing to attract any of her admiration. She had never had a beau, which she always considered to be quite unsurprising since she spent all her time with Jane and wondered idly what it would be like. Of course, Mr. Darcy was _not _any such creature, but if she did one day have a beau who looked like Mr. Darcy but was not quite so haughty… GRRRR… bashful, she thought it might not be the worst thing in the world.

They walked for a few minutes in contented silence, and Elizabeth found she liked it. Mr. Darcy was a man of few words in the best of situations, and when Elizabeth saw him with women before, they generally talked enough for any three people, so his lack of participation was never an issue.

After a bit, Mr. Darcy apparently decided it was his turn to start a conversation, so he asked, "Is this a favorite walk, Miss Elizabeth… err… Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth found the slip endearing rather than insulting, and said, "Be at ease, Mr. Darcy. I am Miss Elizabeth most of the time and am not offended if you find it easier to use."

She made the statement because she truly was not offended if he used her usual name, but also to subtly let him know that Jane remained unmarried. He of course had no need to know that, but considering how acrimonious their last meeting in Hertfordshire was, and the fact that his best friend was still very much in her brown books, she thought it might be useful information.

However, as she found her thoughts running down entirely too many rabbit holes, she supposed it was time to at least answer his question.

"To answer your question, Sir, it depends on how you define a 'favorite'. This walk has met the threshold of a _plurality_, which some would assert is enough to call it a favorite, but it has not met the higher bar of a _majority_.' You will have to narrow the question down to get a reasonable answer."

The gentleman smiled, and said, "Ah, are we back to mathematics, or is it to be philosophy today."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Well, actually that is… well, I do not know the correct term for the subject. I have been reading about voting in the Americas, and it has a use there. I _should_ probably be reading about our own parliamentary procedures, but if I can reveal a dark secret, well, I find them tedious and uninteresting."

Darcy said, "I do as well. In fact, I have no idea what a plurality even is."

"Well, sir. A plurality is where one candidate has the most votes, but not an outright majority. Suppose you have ten men, almost evenly matched standing for an office. One has 11% of the vote and another has only 9%. The man with 11% would have a plurality, but perhaps only because he has more brothers and uncles. Otherwise, there is no clear victor, and that minor difference could be considered… err… noise. In such cases, they cannot declare him the winner, and need to narrow the field. Of course, they never are that close, so they usually eliminate the lowest contenders, and vote again."

Darcy nodded, which Elizabeth took as sufficient encouragement.

"To answer your question, I keep a rough running total of my walks in my head. I have taken this one around 30% of the time. My second most common is near the lake with the white bench, which accounts for perhaps 25%. The path that goes around the village accounts for 20% and the remainder are in the few percents."

"So, this walk has the plurality because you have 'voted' for it more times than any other, but the margin is slim, so to call it 'the favorite' would be overstating the case and unfair to the poor white bench."

Elizabeth replied gaily, "Exactly, Sir! If it had a clear majority, then I would consider it 'the favorite'. Since I do not, I imagine I could call it 'a favorite' without censure."

Darcy chuckled, and said, "Why do I suspect you have just been having it on with me, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth noticed the reversion to her usual name and wondered about it. For most men, she would argue that it was pure laziness. He had accustomed himself to calling her that and calling her something different was more trouble than sticking with habit. However, that did not match what she was beginning to think was his nature.

Elizabeth had talked to various people at Rosings about the gentleman, including parishioners, tenants, and even a few pensioners. It was wonderful how much access she had to people as the sister of the parson's wife. Everyone without exception spoke to how careful he was in all of his dealings. According to all the people she had asked, he was a good master, scrupulous in his interactions, far in his dealings and trustworthy in every way. Of course, Lady Catherine ran the estate and Mr. Darcy was simply there to _assist _his aunt, but he took the job very seriously, according to all she had asked. Colonel Fitzwilliam visited the parsonage frequently because he was _bored _while Mr. Darcy was _busy._

For a moment, Elizabeth was struck by a stray thought that forced her feet to stop moving momentarily.

"Miss Elizabeth?", Mr. Darcy asked very sweetly.

Abandoning the need for clear speaking, as Elizabeth did _not _want to discuss her thoughts, she said, "A momentary stumble, Mr. Darcy. All is well!"

Then she matched deeds to words, and tugged him back into motion, while he looked at her with his haughty GRRRRR perplexed expression.

The thought that had so confused Elizabeth was mathematical in nature. She loved percentages. They were so simple. Any child could understand them, and they told a wonderful story… almost painted it in words. The whole problem was – she could easily imagine the number of people she _should _or typically _would _talk to about a man with such a thin connection to herself, and not an auspicious one at that. There was naturally a range of values, but all within a reasonable range. If she recalled _all_ the conversation she had _actually _had about the man, it amounted to 350-450% of the usual. Yes… it was a clear and undisputed fact… Elizabeth Bennet had been _gossiping_ about Mr. Darcy… a lot.

Somewhat chagrinned, and wanting to change the topic, she said, "I rode out with your cousin, Miss de Bourgh yesterday. It was fascinating."

"Did you learn anything unexpected?"

"I have never known someone who was chronically ill, so _everything _was unexpected. I will not break her confidence…"

The man nodded, and said, "Of course not. I respect that."

She nodded, and said, "But there is one thing that I do not believe she would mind me telling you."

He paused a moment and looked at her.

She said, "I hope you do not consider this gossip or prying, but she does not seem very inclined to marry you."

Darcy chuckled, and said, "That is a relief, as I have no intention of marrying her. I wish I could make her happy, but since marrying her would create the opposite of her happiness, it would seem a bad strategy. In your favorite mathematical terms, it would be an action of the correct _magnitude_ but the incorrect _polarity._"

Elizabeth smiled and chuckled, liking the interchange a bit too much for her own comfort.

"She assured me you understood her. Do you know what bothers her the most about it _now__!_"

He shook his head, and said, "To my shame, I have no idea."

"What bothers her now is that everyone she knows is _accustomed _to her being ill, and they all seem to take it as a given that it has always been that way and it always will. Nobody _expects _any more of her, and…"

Elizabeth paused again, and said, "I should not tell you this… I have no idea why I am gossiping with you…"

To her surprise, Mr. Darcy put his hand over hers, which was surprisingly still attached to his elbow.

"Be at ease, Miss Elizabeth. I can see you are more concerned for my cousin than curious…"

"How can you say that?"

Elizabeth was quite perplexed by the sudden turn of conversation.

"Because you are a caring person. When you talk about Anne, you use the same tone you use when you talk about your sisters. It is simple deduction, really. The fact is derived from well-known principles."

Elizabeth raised one eyebrow in either amazement or consternation. She would decide later, but for the moment it was time to answer.

Stuttering a bit, she finally said, "Well, sir… she says she does not even expect it of herself."

Darcy looked quite sad at the revelation, and then his face fell into a fierce scowl, which half frightened Elizabeth.

He saw her look of alarm she could not suppress, and replied, "Please excuse me, Miss Elizabeth. This scowl is not aimed at you."

With her dander fully engaged, Elizabeth spit out, "For who then. Perhaps your cousin does not meet your expectations, but she is…"

She was surprised when he quite boldly put his finger between her lips to silence her. By all rights she should have bitten a chunk out of it, but she allowed the forward maneuver… once.

"Please, Miss Elizabeth. Let us not be at odds. May I explain, and I assure you, I will satisfy your mathematical mind at the very least."

Elizabeth acquiesced grudgingly.

Darcy continued, "You told me yourself you study characters, and complex ones are more interesting."

She nodded, unwilling to fault his logic, although to be truthful, all she could remember of that disastrous visit of her mother to Netherfield was spending a half hour wishing she could crawl into a hole and pull a blanket over her head… but she _did _vaguely remember saying that.

"And you told me you use mathematics, as often as you can, to make sense of the world."

Again, she nodded.

"Are you familiar with the term 'skew'?"

She searched her memory, and said, "Well, it seems to have many meanings, but the most common being a bias toward one thing or group. A good example would be that English law is _wildly skewed in favor of men_."

She thought the last would probably send the man running if he was as prideful as she supposed, but he surprisingly smiled at her, and she had to admit… his rarely bestowed smile was glorious. He nearly took her breath away, both with the sensation, and the surprise of experiencing it.

The gentleman said, "A perfect example if I ever heard one. Well, I must admit that I have a…"

She found herself on pins and needles waiting for an answer.

"… a skew in my facial expressions. It is an old problem I have been unable to resolve. When I am not paying attention, my expressions are _skewed _towards aloofness, anger, haughtiness… that sort of thing. When I consciously try to control it, I become somewhat wooden, but at least less frightening."

By that time, Elizabeth's mouth was hanging open in wonder. She had to admit that she kind of liked this particular version of Mr. Darcy, and she was ever so happy she would never have to worry about him pursuing a country nobody. She might actually be vulnerable.

She simply said, "That explains a lot, Mr. Darcy."

She did not feel the need to explain in any detail that she had quite detested the man a few days ago.

He continued, "So you see, Miss Elizabeth. My look of rage was directed at _myself_. I have known Anne for my entire life. Lady Catherine has been pressing me to marry her since before my age of majority. But you learned more about her in one afternoon in her phaeton than I did in all that time."

Feeling somewhat guilty on behalf of both Mr. Darcy and his cousin, she said, "Well, Sir! That was not my intention. I have a conversation about boxes with…"

She stopped herself just before that particular story completed. Stumbling a bit, she continued, "well, that is a story for another day. Sometimes it is easier for outsiders to see what is happening just because they have fresh eyes. Do not chastise yourself. I have recently had to apply fresh eyes to a whole host of… err… issues."

She stopped talking, feeling embarrassed and staring at the ground, but then came back to life and blurted out, "I do hope you will not do anything rash."

Darcy nodded, and said, "No, I never do anything rash, Miss Elizabeth. Never in my life can I remember a single act that would be considered rash or imprudent. My cousin Richard teases me mercilessly about it every chance he gets, but I mostly ignore him. I will not do anything precipitous, but I will think long and hard about what I can do to help Anne. There must be _something_."

Elizabeth stopped a moment and dragged the man to a halt.

She stared at him and asked, "You are in earnest?"

"Of course. As I told you once, Miss Elizabeth. I have as many faults as any man, and perhaps more than most. I have no more discernment of my own character than most, but I do try my best to understand my faults and correct them."

"That is to be commended, Sir. If you are feeling ambitious, might I suggest something?"

"Of course!"

"Get her out of Rosings, somehow, without raising all sorts of expectations. Get the Colonel to take her to Ramsgate or Brighton for a holiday. Send your sister and her on some type of trip and make Miss de Bourgh responsible for their itinerary. Give her a chance to change her environment and see if she has a real desire to be different. For all we know, she may enjoy being pampered and would happily continue status quo for her entire life."

Quite to Elizabeth's surprise, Darcy said, "Maybe I should send her to stay at Longbourn."

Elizabeth gasped. A joke from Mr. Darcy. A joke. The world had run amok. She gaily required, "That would be fine, Sir. I doubt my parents would even notice only one more girl."

For the first time, the two laughed together and not at each other. Elizabeth knew full well that the man was not in any way serious, but she thought it might be nice to have a friend that had no expectations.

They reached the parsonage right as that conversation wound down, so Mr. Darcy came inside to greet Mr. and Mrs. Collins, then took his leave.


	20. Perverse Chance

_A/N: Guess what, gang! HUGE NEWS! Last week, my wife Amalia and I sold the company we built up over the last six years to Elekta, the company I worked for the 25 years before that. If you're curious, you can read about it by clicking the link in my profile, or navigating to ___wademan DOT com SLASH news_. We are super-excited, so I couldn't wait to share the news._

_Wade_

* * *

"Lizzy, surely you cannot blame coincidence or perverse chance after three meetings on three different paths inside of a week."

Elizabeth laughed at Mary, and said, "Of course not, Mary. I am not a simpleton. Even if I _did _want to believe it, which frankly would be the easiest thing to do, I have evidence to the contrary."

The ladies were sitting in Mary's parlor while William worked on his sermon in his bookroom. The front parlor gave a good view of the lane, so Mary and her husband spent a good deal of time there, and they obviously did all their entertaining in the room.

Elizabeth liked the parlor quite a lot, just like everything else about the parsonage. It was a _home._ She wondered if it would have worked out so well if she had accepted William's proposal. Mary saw something in the man long before anybody else did, and it took her acceptance to bring it out. Would Elizabeth have been able to do the same? In pensive moments, she thought probably not. She would have started in acrimony, which would have exacerbated his worst traits, while Mary started from a position of love, promoting his best. It was quite a conundrum, but since all had worked out as it should, Elizabeth only used it for idle speculation.

Mary was quite accustomed to her sister occasionally staring off into space with the busyness of her internal thoughts, and just took another sip of tea. She had been feeling a touch ill in the mornings, and she found the tea soothing.

Eventually, she asked, "Evidence?"

Elizabeth brought her attention back to the conversation.

"Yes, it is rudimentary cartography and deductive reasoning, nothing to boast about. Miss de Bourgh showed me a map of Rosings when I visited a week ago. The three paths I usually take are clearly marked, and they all converge at one junction, so I used a line of sight to find a point where it could be observed. I found only one, up by the folly so I went there the next morning and timed how long it took to get to the divergence point. Then I kept track of the time it took between me crossing the junction and Mr. Darcy's appearance, and it was entirely consistent with him waiting there until he saw me pass and hurrying to overtake me. Elementary, really."

Mary just laughed, and asked, "Would it not be simpler to just ask?"

"I am astonished you would ask that, Mary. It would be _improper_ for him to meet me alone in the woods _by design_, so if he acknowledged his subterfuge, or I did, then he would be obliged to cease. He would be unable to speak to me alone without some more _formal _arrangement, which amounts to foregoing my company altogether."

"You persist in your belief that he is indifferent to you."

Wanting to give Mary a true answer, Elizabeth thought hard about it for a minute, but since she had spent many hours contemplating the confusing man, she already knew what she thought.

With a sigh, she said, "Not indifferent, no… I think he might be _interested _in me, but I do not see any signs of _particular regard_. He talks to me like he might a sibling. I believe he has worked out that I have no expectations, and I suspect he is just enjoying talking to an intelligent woman who is not trying to gain his affections."

Mary giggled a bit, and said, "Well, Lizzy, do we have time to get the gardener's spade? I think there is a lovely spot in the orchard where we can bury our poor departed Mr. Occam. I shall ask William to make an appropriate eulogy to our long‑lost master of simple explanations."

Elizabeth laughed a bit along with her sister, but it was more of a confused sound than true mirth.

"Truly, Mary… the man is confusing, but I believe understandable. You know our relative situations as well as I do. It was only the purest of good luck that William decided to offer for one of us, and double-triple good luck that he turned out to be a good and well‑suited husband. He could have used his future inheritance to get a much better dowered or connected bride, and yet he did not."

Mary smiled, as she did any time something complementary was said about her husband, and just said, "Yes, I can agree there. We have been blessed."

Elizabeth pensively continued, "Well, I will admit to you, and you alone, that _sometimes _I think that there might be some scant affection for me in Mr. Darcy, but when I think _rationally_, well, I wonder if we should expect lightning to strike our family thrice."

"What do you mean, Lizzy."

With a sigh, Elizabeth laid out her thinking.

"Remember, our dowries, such as they are, still remain secret and depend on the financial solvency of whichever rich collector made the arrangement to buy Father's books. Mr. Darcy, if he suspects anything at all, believes I have nothing but my meager charms to recommend me, and the lack of propriety of our relations is legendary. It is one thing to be a gentleman's daughter, which we can lay claim to, but to be a _poor _gentleman's daughter, with several shrill relatives, and a bluestocking on top. _Could we expect him to rejoice in the inferiority of our connections? – to congratulate himself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath his own?"_

Mary took her hand, and said, "That sounds like you just made up words the man in Netherfield would have said to support your theory. Do you really believe _this _Mr. Darcy, the Rosings Darcy, whom you have been meeting would say that?"

"No, of course not, unless he was provoked to anger. I have never seen him angry, but I suspect a row between the two of us might end civilization as we know it. Given the right provocation he would say all that and more; but that is not the point."

"What is the point, Lizzy?"

"He will not _say _such an ungentlemanly thing, but _he will and does think it_. Let us try a thought experiment."

Mary sat up like they had done when little girls, and said, "Oh, goody! I like those!"

Elizabeth laughed at the silliness of the expression, and noticed Mary's tea had gone cold, so prepared more for both of them.

Finally, she said, "When a woodsman chops firewood, what is the most important point."

"Make sure your axe is sharp. Swing hard enough, but not too hard. Hit the wood in the right place."

"Very good. So, we need to swing hard enough, but not too hard. Let us start with something analogous to a hard piece of oak. No splintering of kindling with a hatchet for us. Let us speculate on an explanation that Mr. Occam would pounce on like a wolf on a rabbit, whilst us poor befuddled females scratch our heads in confusion."

Mary was laughing by then, not an uncommon occurrence in her parlor, and said, "Well, that one is easy. Let us assume Mr. Darcy was just _shy and uncomfortable_ at that first assembly, sensible enough to be afraid of our mother, and with good enough hearing to understand all she said."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Well, you are not off in the land of the crazies yet. I could hear Mama had I stayed home, so asserting he could hear her words is not difficult. I have lately begun to test the _uncomfortable in crowds _theory, and it would be consistent with his behavior. I will assert you are on a good starting point, Mary. Your axe is sharp, so let us see what you can hit."

Warming to the task, Mary said, "Now, put yourself in his position, and assume a small, yapping mutt took hold of your trousers."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "He was not wearing trousers that evening, but I will go along with your thinking. I believe you would try to dislodge him without damaging the dog, annoying as he is, but with enough force to get him to latch onto someone else's trousers, at least for the remainder of the evening."

"Aha!", Mary said with glee, and said, "So, may we assert that telling the dog that his proposed partner was _not handsome enough to tempt him_ might dislodge it for the remainder of the evening?... Hmmm!"

Elizabeth was taken aback for a moment, but finally said, "Well, Mary… You are a genius, and Mr. Occam is satisfied. That is actually quite a reasonable explanation."

Warming to the task, Mary said, "Now let us suppose that he, over the next six weeks, decided that you _were__ handsome enough to tempt him? _Charlotte and Jane both said that he stared at you quite a lot, and your assertion that he was looking to find fault would wound poor Mr. Occam to the quick. Let us try something."

"Of course."

"Suppose we take all the reasons a man _might_ stare at a woman, assign a relative probability of each, and make one of those new _pie charts_ you have been expounding on. I suspect the _'he admires you'_ slice would be the size Lydia _actually receives_ from a pie, while _'looking to find fault' _would be as small as the one she deserves."

With a good laugh, Elizabeth said, "All right, Mary… I shall grudgingly concede your point. He may have had some small infatuation for me back in Hertfordshire. I am certain our friend Occam would happily agree that was the most likely reason he danced with me and then left the county without a word less than twelve hours later."

Mary said, "Mr. Occam _might not be as displeased _with that hypothesis as you might think, Lizzy. Let us go back to our poor forgotten woodsman."

Feeling her head spinning, Elizabeth said, "By all means. Who could not love a woodsman?"

"Believe it or not, Lizzy… I am not only planning to use our woodsman, but I shall introduce some intelligence I received from Lady Catherine, if you do not object."

"Mary, I can hardly think of Lady Catherine without the vision of axes immediately coming to mind, so I shall show no objection."

"Well, let us say our woodsman wants his fire to last all night without having to get up and restock it. What would he use?"

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Oak is best, the older and harder, the better. I believe burn time is directly related to density, although I have no idea if it is linear or not. I suppose we could find out, but the experiments would take some time."

"Exactly. Now, if he gets the hardest, most recalcitrant piece of oak he can find, he is well situated?"

"Provided he can split it."

"Aha! Now I come to my point. What would he have to do to split it?"

"In a case such as that, he would forego the axe. He would have to get a wedge and maul, then just pound away at it, hoping it will split before the poor wedge gets stuck in the wood. If that happens, he should try to have a second wedge. If that was insufficient, he might have to get someone else, stronger or less weary to pitch in."

"Exactly!"

Elizabeth looked perplexed, and said, "Well, Mary, it appears the enlightenment coach has left the stage stop, but I remain standing in the yard."

"Patience, Sister. Now, let us move on to _families_. What do you think makes a family like the Darcys or the de Bourghs prosper for _centuries_? Both have held their land for well over 600 years. That is a long time!"

Elizabeth said, "I never thought about it."

Mary said, "Well, Lady Catherine has, and she enlightened me. What they think about is _keeping wealth and power in the family._ The relentless focus on family explains everything from first sons inheriting to entails. It is all about keeping the family intact and with increasing wealth and power, even if you have the occasional bad apple, which any family will."

"And?"

"Well, one way to keep the family strong is through _alliances. _The de Bourgh family and the Darcy family are both aligned with the Fitzwilliams through marriage. That makes all three families stronger. That is the way of the world, and a relentless focus on _family dynasties, _when added to the usual greed and similar emotions can explain almost all of English history."

Elizabeth sat staring out the front window for some minutes trying to work out all the ramifications of what Mary said. She looked for any holes in the theory, but sadly, could not find a single one.

"Lady Catherine is smarter than she pretends to be."

"So are we, Lizzy."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "All right, I can see you pining away for your woodsman. Have you been making William chop your firewood?"

Mary laughed, and said, "Well no… but now that you mention it…"

Both sisters giggled far more than the jest was called for, but finally Elizabeth said, "Well, finish your analogy, Mary."

"Well, let us say that the families that have survived for centuries have _not_ done so by being _weak_. They are our analogue of the hard oak. Now, suppose you are the patriarch of such a family, and you have the heir. _What do you do with him?_"

Elizabeth thought about it for quite some time, and then she at first laughed when she saw the answer, but then frowned as all the implications became clear.

Finally, in a whisper, she said, _"You teach him about family duty by relentlessly pounding it into his head like your woodsman."_

Mary took her hand, and said, "Exactly. Now make that young man _responsible _for centuries of family legacy, separate him from his parents by the curtain of death, and _have him start admiring a woman his parents would have disapproved of, and his current relatives still would._"

Lizzy said, "Can you imagine Mr. Darcy bringing me to Lady Catherine as a potential niece before you softened her up… or the Colonel's father, the Earl?"

Mary sat back, sighed, and said, "Exactly!"

Elizabeth sat back in her chair and thought deeply about that. It was as uncomfortable as listening to one of her mother's tirades, but she forced herself to go through everything that happened in Hertfordshire, from the assembly to the Netherfield ball. What had she done the entire time?

She gasped, sat forward in her chair, and said, "Mary! I teased and taunted him the entire time. Now, let us… let us…"

She sat thinking, "Let us just suppose that you, Charlotte, Jane and your friend Occam are correct. He stared at me because he admired me… not that I am admitting to it, but I will entertain the _possibility_."

Mary laughed, and said, "Baby steps, Lizzy."

"Now, suppose that he, like me, also took the intellectually lazy route."

"How so, Lizzy?"

"Suppose he thought that I was _flirting _with him."

Mary sat back up straight, stared at her sister, and tried to recall all she had observed in Hertfordshire. As usual, it was more than anybody else would have expected – one of the benefits of being effectively invisible. She nodded through all of it, and finally sighed.

"It would make some sense. Remember Mama was boasting of 'capturing' Mr. Bingley. Suppose he did admire you and concluded that you were flirting with him. What would he do?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Miss Bingley flirted with him day in and day out, and he swatted her away like an annoying fly… though I would bet a year's allowance he kept his chambers locked."

"Yes."

"But, if he thought I was flirting with him, and _he felt himself vulnerable_…"

She thought a few more minutes, and said, "He would remove himself from the danger. After all, he is the stout oak that is responsible for the Darcy name _two hundred years from now_. Regardless of his feelings, he would most likely leave, and find a more suitable wife elsewhere."

Elizabeth wondered why she felt so sad at the revelation. It all made perfect sense. She had quite detested the man a fortnight ago, and had only recently, and quite begrudgingly decided he might not be as bad as she thought. She had even entertained the thought of a friendship with the man, though such things between unmarried people were practically unheard of.

With a sigh, she said, "Well, Mary. I believe we have solved the mystery. It is entirely possible that he admired me a bit, and mistakenly thought I returned the sentiment at one time. Now… now… well, he does not have to run. He leaves in two days' time, and I believe he is just storing up a few conversations."

Mary sighed, and said, "And are you… _bothered…_ Lizzy?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, it is one thing for me to reject him. Him rejecting me is not quite so agreeable, but other than that, I am just content to understand it. Not _happy_, mind you, but content."

Mary just sighed, and said, "I suppose. Either way, he will be gone the morning after tomorrow, so I imagine it does not matter all that much."

"No, Mary… it does not matter at all."


	21. Officious Interference

_A/N: A few reviewers have very kindly asked about my future plans after our company sale. I have another year of work, building v2 of one of our products while bringing a bigger engineering team up to speed. They will be building much more software on our platform, so it will expand and thrive within Elekta. If you're burning with curiosity, you can see our flagship product at PalabraApps DOT com. To see our second product, Google Elekta SmartClinic and follow the first or second link._

_I'll retire in exactly 1 year, and then, we'll see. At the moment, my wife and I plan to publish most of what I've written and see what happens. Of course, there will be a lot more of it by then._

_I will no doubt continue to write, and I have some bigger writerly ambitions that may or may not happen. Amalia's brother owns a production company in Spain, and I may try to write a screenplay that's been stuck in my head for 3 years. We'll see after the retirement._

_As to the story, the response continues to astound me. I have learned that my ability to predict reactions to my work is abysmally bad. I'm about as blind as Lizzy, which is… err… good? My most popular stories are Shall We Dance, and Letters from Cheapside, both of which I expected to be middling popular at best. Shows what I know! I thought the math would turn off people after a few chapters, but you guys keep asking for more. This chapter doesn't have much math. I had a small sequence about set theory, but it didn't really fit in the end._

_This chapter has way more Jane-Speak than I generally use or recommend – I mean a lot more by a factor of at least 10 from my previous most prolific bout of plagiarism. It's very rare for more than a sentence or two to really fit the story, but in this case, it actually works… I think. You tell me._

_Lastly, the axe analogies in the previous chapter were from personal experience, not book learning. I grew up in a sawmill and spent years making little boards out of big trees. Fair warning, I also spent some time in a rock crushing plant making little rocks out of big rocks (or more technically, gravel out of a mountain), so expect some rock analogies sooner or later. With the male characters I have to work with, it almost seems too easy._

_I know you're all waiting for the chapter_, along with the attendant rainbows or fireworks_. It will be next._

_Wade_

* * *

Elizabeth was walking in the park the next day, thinking furiously about her discussion with Mary of the previous evening. She had worked her way around to the solid conclusion that he was an entirely vexing and confusing man, but somewhere between interesting and fascinating; when she heard steps behind her.

Unable to decide if she was looking forward to verbally sparring with her nemesis one last time or not, she turned, but was surprised to find Colonel Fitzwilliam bearing down on her, with his typical vacuous smile.

She pasted on a similarly insocient expression, and said, _"I did not know before that you ever walked this way."_

_"I have been making the tour of the park," he replied, "as I generally do every year, and intend to close it with a call at the Parsonage. Are you going much farther?"_

_"No, I should have turned in a moment."_

_And accordingly, she did turn, and they walked towards the Parsonage together._

_"Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?" said she._

_"Yes–if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his disposal. He arranges the business just as he pleases."_

_"And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at least pleasure in the great power of choice. I do not know anybody who seems more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr. Darcy."_

The Colonel chuckled, but then Elizabeth, belatedly thought that she both sounded uncharitable, and what she said was probably untrue.

She amended, "Of course, while I have complete faith in Lady Catherine, I do believe she relies on your cousin for a great number of things. It is equally likely he has other duties that were unanticipated, so perhaps we should not be so hard on him."

The Colonel mostly ignored her annex, which annoyed her to no end.

_"He likes to have his own way very well," replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. "But so we all do. It is only that he has better means of having it than many others, because he is rich, and many others are poor. I speak feelingly. A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and dependence."_

Elizabeth was feeling more and more peeved by the stupidity of the assertion, especially with the way she had been staring _true_ genteel poverty in the face a few months prior. Perhaps the soldier was trying to be humorous, but his reading of his audience was terribly tone‑deaf. She responded more sharply than was probably polite.

_"In my opinion, the younger son of an earl can know very little of either. Now seriously, what have you ever known of self-denial and dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from going wherever you chose, or procuring anything you had a fancy for?"_

_"These are home questions–and perhaps I cannot say that I have experienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters of greater weight, I may suffer from want of money. Younger sons cannot marry where they like."_

_"Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they very often do."_

_"Our habits of expense make us too dependent, and there are not many in my rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention to money."_

At that point, Elizabeth had endured just about all of the Colonel she cared for. She was once again reminded of Mary's yipping dog analogy and thought she should check her ankles for bite marks. Not quite willing to forego manners entirely though, she at length replied.

_"And pray, what is the usual price of an earl's younger son? Unless the elder brother is very sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds."_

The Colonel made a reply that Elizabeth mostly ignored. They carried on for a few minutes, talking of subjects that the lady would hardly be bothered to recall later. They spoke of Mr. Darcy's sister, who apparently had both the Colonel and Mr. Darcy as guardians, which frankly sounded like a terrible idea. She desperately hoped there was a woman – _some _woman – _any _woman – somewhere in the mix, else the poor girl was likely to be completely unacquainted with how to live in the world. However, Miss Darcy's fate was no more her concern than Mr. Darcy's was, so she let the subject drop.

The Colonel blathered on for a few more minutes while Elizabeth's thoughts went more and more to his cousin, who at least was interesting, if not vexing. When the Colonel swept a fallen branch from the path, she, quite without thinking said, "Thank you, Mr. Bingley."

No sooner had the words escaped her mouth, when she gasped, and said, "My apologies, Colonel. Something occasionally fails betwixt my brain and my mouth."

The Colonel just laughed humorously, and said, "Well, at least you did not call me Darcy. A man without his handsomeness or status does not like to be reminded of it, but Bingley I can live with. We are similar enough that the confusion is understandable."

Curious, Elizabeth asked, "You know the Bingleys?"

_"I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant gentlemanlike man–he is a great friend of Darcy's."_

_"Oh! yes," said Elizabeth drily; "Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind to Mr. Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him."_

_"Care of him! Yes, I really believe Darcy does take care of him in those points where he most wants care. From something that he told me in our journey hither, I have reason to think Bingley very much indebted to him. But I ought to beg his pardon, for I have no right to suppose that Bingley was the person meant. It was all conjecture."_

Not liking the sound of this particular bit of gossip in the least, but unable to contain her curiosity, Elizabeth timidly asked, _"What is it you mean?"_

_"It is a circumstance which Darcy could not wish to be generally known, because if it were to get round to the lady's family, it would be an unpleasant thing."_

With a sinking feeling, Elizabeth replied cautiously, _"You may depend upon my not mentioning it."_

_"And remember that I have not much reason for supposing it to be Bingley. What he told me was merely this: that he congratulated himself on having lately saved a friend from the inconveniences of a most imprudent marriage, but without mentioning names or any other particulars, and I only suspected it to be Bingley from believing him the kind of young man to get into a scrape of that sort, and from knowing them to have been together the whole of last summer."_

Elizabeth's heart felt like it nearly came to a halt at the inference. How many men could Mr. Darcy _possibly_ be prying away from _imprudent marriages?_ If he interfered with Mr. Bingley that would be bad enough, and if he did it often, it would be even worse. Based on the maximum threshold principle, Elizabeth thought that she would judge the action to be 'bad enough or worse'.

Curious to get more details, or at lest confirmation, she asked, _"Did Mr. Darcy give you reasons for this interference?"_

_"I understood that there were some very strong objections against the lady."_

Elizabeth thought it would be just like the man to object to the lady's family but blame it on the lady herself. Nobody could possibly object to Jane, but as to the rest of the Bennet family, with emphasis on Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, well, anybody objecting to them would only be showing good sense. Jane herself had made the case, and if Mr. Darcy's arts in separating the couple amounted to repeating what Jane herself said a week later, Elizabeth could not _necessarily _fault him with it. She could not fault him, but it could still make her frightfully angry.

Curious for more details, she asked, _"And what arts did he use to separate them?"_

_"He did not talk to me of his own arts," said Fitzwilliam, smiling. "He only told me what I have now told you."_

_Elizabeth made no answer, and walked on, her heart swelling with indignation. After watching her a little, Fitzwilliam asked her why she was so thoughtful._

_"I am thinking of what you have been telling me," said she. "Your cousin's conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he to be the judge?"_

_"You are rather disposed to call his interference officious?"_

Trying to calm herself enough to answer, Elizabeth slowed slightly in her walk.

_"I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the propriety of his friend's inclination, or why, upon his own judgement alone, he was to determine and direct in what manner his friend was to be happy. But," she continued, recollecting herself, "as we know none of the particulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposed that there was much affection in the case."_

_"That is not an unnatural surmise," said Fitzwilliam, "but it is a lessening of the honour of my cousin's triumph very sadly."_

There was the phrase that told her all she needed to know. '_My cousin's triumph_.' Was that how Mr. Darcy saw it or was that just how the Colonel, clearly not the cleverest of men, embellished the story? The man beside her did not even properly know any of that sad play's actors, nor any details, so he must be making some up to fill them in… but that phrase… that phrase smacked of condescension, and Elizabeth was having none of it.

She stopped abruptly, fuming in anger, and stood staring down at her right boot, which was peeking out from under her dress. To tell the truth, she was staring at her foot, because it was the only way she could come up with to keep herself from using that selfsame boot to kick him in the shins as hard as she could.

The Colonel similarly stopped and stared at her, but she was not looking at his face.

He cautiously asked, "Miss Bennet, are you well?"

Feeling her anger starting to boil over, Elizabeth realized that _angry people are not always wise_, and then remembered Mary's advice. Her sister advised her to do some arithmetic… any arithmetic, so she occupied herself with calculating the first dozen entries of the Fibonacci Sequence, just to calm herself down. That almost did the trick well enough, so she added a list of the first dozen or so prime numbers to get her ire down to a manageable level.

Finally, she said, "I apologize Colonel. I am not enjoying this conversation very much. My sister Mary, gave me some much-needed advice about how to refrain from reacting angrily, and it takes some time and effort, so please forgive the delay."

Finally working out that he was _not_ doing well in the least, the Colonel said, "Does my disclosures about my cousin _anger_ you, Miss Bennet? If so, I apologize for bringing up such a subject."

Elizabeth lost her thin hold on her temper, and snapped, "I see, Colonel. You have no objection go gossip… you just object to getting caught at it."

Looking confused, he said simply, "I do not understand."

Still seething, Elizabeth said, "Colonel, I am using all of my thin reserves of patience to keep myself from kicking you in the shins, so explaining it to you might prove painful."

Looking more and more contrite, he said, "Well, Miss Bennet… if that would make you feel better, I would suggest you let fly. I can see I have earned your displeasure. Now that I think on it, that is not a story I should have told, to you or anyone. You are correct. Such things are best left unsaid or unheard. However, your anger seems… err… disproportionate to the offense."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, my understanding of the proportionality of the offense and the reaction does not compute. The equations are not balanced. From this, I must conclude that I do not possess all of the information that you have."

"No, Sir! You do not."

Sounding even more contrite, he said, "Tell me how to restore as much of your equilibrium as I might, Miss Bennet. It sounds like I am due a kick or two, so feel free. It will be no less than I deserve. If a scolding is more to your liking, I will listen. If you prefer, I will walk away and never mention it again. I am at your service and your direction. Just tell me how you would like me to proceed."

Somewhat calmed by his obvious contrition, Elizabeth said, "Is that the younger son's training I am witnessing, Colonel?"

He chuckled just a bit, and said, "Yes, when the heir is an insufferable vindictive lout, groveling is a skill best mastered early and practiced often. Then there is the highly educational experience of being shot at a few dozen times. Basic infantry principles say that when you have blundered into hostile fire, at the very least duck, and then do your best to either dig in or take yourself elsewhere."

Elizabeth allowed a bit of humor to seep through, and found herself calm enough to think rationally, and even return the ferocious frown on her face to neutral.

"I do hope that occasionally the idea occurs to you to shoot back."

Feeling a big of a reprieve, the Colonel chuckled lightly.

Elizabeth continued, "I apologize for my bad humor, Colonel. You caught me unawares."

"How so?"

"Look around, Colonel! Spring has arrived! The gardens are beautiful. The sun is shining. I feel I was lulled into a sense of complacency, and was not entirely prepared for you to tell me that either _my sister_, _my family_, or perhaps even _myself_ were considered _so unsuitable_, that it was necessary for Mr. Bingley to dance the opening and supper sets with my eldest sister, at a dance that would appear to any outside observer to be in her honor, after assiduously courting her for six weeks; and then leave the county without a word never to return a mere six hours later."

The Colonel stared at her in stupefaction, and stormed, "He did what?"

Calming down somewhat, he continued, "I would ask you to repeat that, Miss Bennet, but I fear it would be even worse on a second hearing. I… I… well… that is in every way horrible."

"Yes, Colonel, it is. Are you still inclined to boast about it?"

The man at least had the grace to look chagrinned, and said, "Does Darcy know that he left without a word?"

"He left the same day, within hours. I would assume so. He danced the fourth with me, and then I never saw him again until the day you called at the parsonage."

The Colonel let out a big breath of frustration, and said, "It is not my place, Miss Bennet, but I should like to have strong words or fists with both of those lunkheads. This is unconscionable, and they should be called on the carpet for such ungentlemanlike behavior… not that I can boast of anything better."

Feeling like the Colonel was using strong words and supposed self-condemnation as a crutch to avoid the truly unpleasant feelings, Elizabeth dug in a bit more.

"And yet, you were perfectly fine _boasting_ about it to a virtual stranger, before you knew any of the particulars. Do you assume that _any woman _abandoned deserves her fate? I hope that is not the attitude you are instilling in your cousin. The poor girl does not stand a chance."

Looking more confused than contrite or angry, the Colonel shot back, "No, ma'am... You make a good point. Do you suppose I could introduce you to her? She could use your flavor of good sense. God knows she gets little enough of it from us."

Elizabeth nearly shouted, "Are you mad?", then somewhat more calmly, "You most certainly may not! I doubt I will ever see you or your cousin again, and I can see no need to introduce Miss Darcy to such 'unsuitable' company."

Feeling a bit tired of the abuse, the Colonel said stridently, "You make my case, Miss Elizabeth! If Georgiana has nothing better than my cousin's and my common sense to guide her, she is doomed. You would be a very good influence on her."

Quite deflated, Elizabeth said, "Well, it makes little difference, Colonel. Our circles do not overlap, nor do they need to. Wish Miss Darcy well on my behalf, but it shall not be me she gets guidance from. If she needs wisdom, bring her to Rosings and she can partake of sensible conversation with my sister. She is as clever as I am and learning to deal with Lady Catherine would do your charge no harm if she intends to enter society."

The Colonel nodded, feeling defeated, and said, "May I at least take my cousin to task over this debacle."

"No, Colonel, you may not! My objective is to have less damaging gossip, not more. You sound like a man who would put out a fire with lamp oil."

The Colonel just nodded, and said, "It shall be as you say, Miss Bennet, but I _would_ like to knock some sense into him."

"Well, if you want to do that, feel free Colonel… just do not do it on my behalf, or mention my sister."

They had managed to make it to the parsonage, and feeling an oncoming headache, Elizabeth curtsied, and did her best to send the Colonel on his way with at least basic civility. With any luck, she would never meet him again.

Mary and William were out on parsonage business. They were doing chores that did not strictly require both of them, but it was hard to pry them apart, so they usually went together. Things were exactly as they should be for a loving couple married but four months.

Elizabeth entered the house and went to her room to splash water on her face, thinking about what she had learned… or more likely seething about what she had learned. She had no idea why it upset her so much to find Mr. Darcy in the middle of the yipping mutt's antics, but she had to sheepishly admit to herself that it did. She thought that someday, in a more rational stage of mind, she might recognize the emotion as _disappointment_! However, at that particular time and that place, all she could feel was anger at being the subject of malicious gossip. She wondered if this was how all her mother's victims felt, and that sent her down yet another rabbit hole of bad feelings.

_The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned, brought on a headache; and it grew so much worse towards the evening, that, added to her unwillingness to see Mr. Darcy _or his cousin_, it determined her not to attend _the Collins _to Rosings, where they were engaged to drink tea. _

Mary asked, "Lizzy, what is wrong. Did you meet Mr. Darcy again? Has he said something that upsets you? I am not averse to some strong words with him."

Elizabeth was happy to see her little lion trying to protect her, but said, "No, I did not meet him today."

She did not want Mary to spend the evening fretting about her, so she ate into the small budget of little lies she was willing to spend on Mary. The two had been as honest as it was possible to be since Elizabeth's first _awkward conversation_, but both occasionally fudged if they thought it was to the other's benefit.

"No, Mary, perhaps I walked too far, or perhaps the calendar is against me."

Mary nodded, as the timing for that particular event was about due, and far be it from her to object to someone using that as an excuse.

"Well, Lizzy… I will tell Lady Catherine you had a headache. If she objects, I will send William to her library to copy out the definitions for 'Invitation' and 'Obligation'."

Elizabeth laughed more than the jest called for and reflected on just how much she loved her sister.

Mary gave her a small kiss on the cheek, and said, "I will insist you not stay in this room all night, Lizzy. It is comfortable enough to sleep in, but a dismal place to spend all evening. Come down to the parlor, and I will ask Hannah to make you a light supper and some tea. It will help settle you."

Elizabeth promised compliance, so Mary left to attend a few items in her own room. A knock on her bedroom door surprised her, as did the voice through the door.

"Dear Cousin, I understand you are feeling unwell. Is there anything, anything at all, within my meagre capabilities, that can be done to restore your comfort?"

Feeling much better, Elizabeth glanced in the mirror to make certain she did not look a fright, then opened the door, and boldly kissed her cousin on the cheek.

"Your sentiment alone is the tonic I needed, William. You may take the very best care of your wife you can, and I shall be well."

With a huge smile, William looked at Mary Collins, then they walked downstairs to the front, put on their wraps and gloves, then left to walk the half-mile to Rosings.

Elizabeth reflected that she was almost certainly done with both of the gentlemen of the house. They would of course call to take their leave in the morning, and then Elizabeth doubted she would ever see either of them again.

She made no attempt to decide whether she was happy or sad about that state of affairs.


	22. Big Boxes

_A/N: Apologies - over the weekend I posted Chapter 21 as Chapter 20 overnight, which was confusing. It's fixed now. You should have Chapter 20 between Mary and Elizabeth, and 21 between Lizzy and the Colonel._

_Fun Fact – this is the second time I expanded a one‑shot into a novel. The first was Seven Brandies, which had no math at all, but was quite possibly the most absurd and crazy book I ever wrote. At any rate, the start of the previous chapter was the spot where this one got bigger than SB, so if I have a problem with scope creep, it appears to be getting worse._

_I know in the last chapter I suggested this was the one, but the windup ended up bigger than I planned, so this is the one before the one. I promise the one by Wednesday._

_Wade_

* * *

When they were gone, Elizabeth accepted a light meal from Hannah, and then retired to the parlor to read and think.

The reading consisted of rereading Jane's last letters. She was happy to see that Jane and Mr. Jameson seemed to be coming together nicely, if in fits and starts. They were both such private people that they had difficulty communicating, but Elizabeth was happy she was not in London. If she were readily available, there was a chance Jane might enlist her help, and Elizabeth was of the firm opinion that Jane needed to start managing her own life. Mr. Jameson did not seem to be going anywhere, and they had plenty of time.

The thinking part of her evening consisted of trying to sort in her mind exactly what she thought about the ever-perplexing Mr. Darcy. Her anger with the Colonel had cooled, and she felt it was time to look at things objectively.

The only thing that was _new _was the knowledge that the Colonel believed, most likely correctly, that Mr. Darcy had some effect on the departure of Mr. Bingley, and that he told his closest cousin about it in a vague and nonspecific way. Mr. Darcy had not divulged the name of the parties to the Colonel, so that man's gossip was at least half speculation. It was probably _accurate _speculation, but it was still speculation. That meant that, whatever his other faults, Mr. Darcy was not trying to sink the Bennet family's reputation.

With some effort, Elizabeth decided that to be both charitable and rational, she would need to disregard the gossip aspects of the story altogether and take the Colonel's assertion that Mr. Darcy helped in the separation as an unproven, but likely true, fact.

That left what she already knew, along with the supposition that Mr. Darcy may well have advised Mr. Bingley against an alliance. What did that mean in terms of Mr. Darcy? Mr. Bingley was a lost cause, and the Colonel she was thoroughly indifferent to after her ire cooled, but she was still trying to sketch the Derbyshire gentleman's character and wondered if this might be a stain on it or not.

To assist her thinking, and hopefully remove excess emotion, she decided to try a scenario that replaced certain characters with others. It was a useful trick she had used before with her sisters to try to filter out bias. She had to choose between using well-known people or strangers and decided on the course of using those she knew.

She sat down in a comfortable chair, closed her eyes, and sent her memory back to the Netherfield ball, which seemed to be the event all others were orbiting around. The entire relationship between all parties changed dramatically the very next day, so that seemed a good place to start.

Elizabeth tried to imagine Jane as a wealthy heiress and Mr. Bingley a nearly penniless fifth son. She then made Mrs. Bennet the mother of the penniless gentleman, and ran her mother's exact words through her mind, replacing 'Mr. Bingley' with 'Miss Bennet', and 'Jane' with 'Mr. DownOnHisLuck'.

Much as Jane had implied before, had Elizabeth, as an objective observer, been listening to the exchange she would have been absolutely appalled. Mrs. DownOnHisLuck would have gone on and on about how her son had captured the elusive Miss Bennet, and how their alliance would certainly throw her other four sons into the path of other rich heiresses. Hearing the words thus transposed, Elizabeth actually started feeling nauseous.

For the coup de grâce, she imagined Charlotte Lucas sitting at the table listening to the whole thing, while Mr. DownOnHisLuck's brother hissed repeatedly at his mother to be silent, and hearing this response quite clearly:

_"What is Miss Lucas to me, pray, that I should be afraid of her? I am sure we owe her no such particular civility as to be obliged to say nothing she may not like to hear."_

Elizabeth was certain, beyond any doubt whatsoever, that Charlotte would have dragged Jane from the ball by force and locked her in her room until the fortune hunter went away. When she looked at it from that angle, she could well see Mr. Darcy's point, especially if Mr. DownOnHisLuck was someone who kept his emotions close to the vest and could not be observed to be showing _particular _attention to Miss Bennet. Charlotte would at the very least suggest the couple think things through carefully, and much to her chagrin, she thought that if Jane abandoned the relationship, she would _rejoice in her success. _

Then she imagined Charlotte making a trip a few months later with Louisa Goulding. Would Charlotte scruple in telling her good friend about the incident, at least in general terms. She found that she could not. Louisa might have more sense than the Colonel, but could she be certain? She had heard enough gossip from all the Meryton ladies of her age to doubt the premise.

All of that thinking meant, that if she could remove her family's attachment from the equation, she _could find no real fault with Mr. Darcy._ Oh, she was perfectly happy to dislike Mr. Bingley until the end days, but was it Mr. Darcy's responsibility to make his friend take his leave? Was it his responsibility to explain his friend's absence? Was it his responsibility to make up for his friend's either fickle or sensible nature (depending on her mood)? Did Elizabeth even know what he suggested to Mr. Bingley? For all she knew, Mr. Darcy simply advised caution and Mr. Bingley followed his sister's advice. Or maybe he suggested taking his leave and Mr. Bingley, lacking fortitude, delegated the task to his sisters.

In the end, it was hard for Elizabeth to assign any real blame to Mr. Darcy. It was true that they had enjoyed several conversations of a more intimate nature than usual between unmarried people, but she could not see any reasonable place where either of them could have brought up the Bingleys or what happened at Netherfield. How would one even start the conversation, and more importantly, why? All of that meant that she could not even fault the gentleman for acting as if the whole thing never happened. Was that not what she did? Absent the slip of the tongue, she never would have brought up the name to the Colonel or anyone else.

All this thinking, followed by an almost verbatim recall of Jane's rage based setdown of her parents, led her to an inescapable conclusion. Based on all she knew, Mr. Darcy was probably a good man, though a bit rough around the edges. Being quite of similar temperament herself, Elizabeth did not see where she could criticize him for that. In the matter of Mr. Bingley, aside from the minor breach of propriety in failing to take his leave, Mr. Darcy was faultless. He had advised a good friend to the best of his ability, and could more be demanded of any man?

Once that was done, she worked her way back to the first assembly step by step, thinking about every meeting. As in her previous discussion with Marry, she really was not ready to find enough fault to hang him with. The man had a bad night and said some unfortunate things. She did that on a regular basis, and her father made a sport of the practice.

Once Elizabeth thought about all Mr. Darcy had _actually _done, while rejecting everything she _assumed _he had done, along with Mr. Wickham's probable lies, she really had nothing to fault Mr. Darcy with. For certain his manners were not as engaging as some, and he was nervous and unapproachable in crowds, but those did not seem to be terrible offenses by any stretch of the imagination.

All in all, Elizabeth thought she was prepared for whatever the morrow would bring with regards to Mr. Darcy. She was finally satisfied that she understood the man. He was a good and admirable man, who probably held her in some affection, which he would never act on. If he did by some wild chance act upon it, he had asserted himself that he never did anything precipitously, so she would have plenty of time to work out how to respond. Should he ask to call on her or court her, then she felt well enough about him to most likely allow it. He seemed worth knowing better, and there was some chance she could help him with some of his more awkward behaviors.

Elizabeth sat back in the sofa in satisfaction. Lightning was very unlikely to strike, but on the off chance that it did, Mary and the Colonel had left her in a good position to respond appropriately.

Elizabeth's mind was made up. She did not love the man, or even necessarily esteem him, but she liked him well enough to give him serious consideration, in the unlikely event it became necessary.

The lady's mind fully satisfied, she sighed in satisfaction at a difficult decision properly made.

* * *

Elizabeth got up to make a cup of tea from the pot Mary kept on the fireplace, only to be surprised by a ring of the doorbell. Wondering who it could possibly be, she met Hannah, the maid of all work at the front door.

Outside, they found a carter of around forty years, with a young assistant of perhaps twenty.

"Delivery for Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Elizabeth smiled, and identified herself.

The two went back to their cart and brought an enormous pasteboard box. Quite amused and curious, Elizabeth directed them to the parlor, and worked with Hannah to clear out a space in the middle for the box. Then she took some coins from her reticle for the carter's trouble, sent everyone from the room, and set out to discover what was what.

The box was so wide it had barely fit through the door, at around four feet square and two feet tall. The outside was green pasteboard with a lovely park scene stenciled on it. She wondered if that had any meaning beyond decoration, but thought she was unlikely to find out if she did not get on with it.

With anxious fingers, Elizabeth untied the twine that was holding the top on in two directions and lifted the top off. The box was constructed much like a giant hatbox, so the top came off quite easily.

Elizabeth anxiously peered inside, only to be perplexed by a second box, of red pasteboard with its own lid. It was a couple inches smaller on each side and appeared to be wedged in place with spacers near the bottom.

With even more excitement, Elizabeth opened the second box, and much to her delight, found yet a third box inside.

Elizabeth continued through the fourth and fifth boxes, only to find the final box contained a beautiful and intricately carved dollhouse.

The gable of the roof had a small handle on it, with a note attached. She opened the note with trembling hands, and it read simply, _'Lift me'._

With a delighted giggle, Elizabeth carefully lifted the handle to find that the entire roof came off as one big assembly.

She looked at the construction of the roof, which was very fine indeed. It was made of lacquered wood of very light color, and beautifully crafted.

Finally, she got down on her knees to look carefully into the house itself and gasped in surprise. The house had properly constructed interior walls like any high-quality dollhouse, but they were constructed in such a way as to form an intricate maze.

On one corner of the dollhouse she saw a tall blond doll in a beautiful dress, and in the other corner, she saw a tall, bearded gentleman in elegant evening clothes.

In the center of the maze, she found a short doll with brown hair and a dress that looked suspiciously like hers, holding a roll of paper.

With trembling fingers, she unrolled the tiny parchment, and saw the oldest mathematical equation in the world.

_1 Woman + 1 Man = 1 Family_

With a scream, she jumped up and danced around the room in absolute delight. She thought she might even emulate her mother, screaming, _'Two sisters married'_, although that seemed a bit much even for her. She was so so so so very happy and wondered when she would be able to welcome her sister, Jane Jameson.

Elizabeth danced around the room one more time, then climbed back on her knees to examine the very fine construction of the dollhouse. She would write Jane immediately but thought to spend a few minutes just admiring the construction and thinking about her sister's happiness first.


	23. Shadows

_A/N: Sorry about the evil cliffy last chapter (I need an emoji for crossing my fingers behind my back), but in my defense, I will tell you that I moved the very __first__ sentence of __this__ chapter away from being the very __last__ sentence of the previous chapter, so I feel virtuous enough. ;)_

_At any rate, I decided to defer the chapter you've all been begging for to chapter 57… NOT!_

_I am going to borrow some Jane-Speak from the 1995 BBC series (the best)._

_Fun Math Fact: We all hash and rehash what we consider the key parts of __Awesome Jane__'s text, (think I could make AJ a thing?) over and over, but the proposal scene in canon is a whopping __1,496 words__ start to finish. Jane really knew how to pack a punch. By contrast, I don't have a single chapter in this story that small. My average is 3,050 for this story and 2,700 for all stories. This one's a whopping 5,600 words, so I'm nowhere near as terse as Jane, so strap yourself in and start taking bets on the outcome. If you nailed it, or even came close, make a review with some shameless bragging._

_Wade_

* * *

Elizabeth was sitting on her knees examining the dollhouse, when the doorbell rang again, and much to her surprise, once again, in came Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy alone.

Somewhat startled, she came to her feet with as much grace as she could, which all things considered was not that elegant. She dropped a curtsy and tried her best not to sound startled when she greeted him with, "Mr. Darcy!"

The gentleman _stalked_ into the room. Elizabeth could not really come up with another word for his manner, as he was showing some emotion she had never seen before. His brow was furrowed in… something. Elizabeth thought it might be nervousness on another man, but immediately discarded the notion, leaving her with nothing but confusion.

As he crossed fully into the room, he looked surprised to see pasteboard boxes scattered all about, and curious about the dollhouse that was in the center of the mess. He stared at it for a moment, before finally recollecting himself enough to offer the basic courtesies.

"Miss Bennet, I heard you were ill and thought to check on you."

The very concept of Mr. Darcy, of all people, walking a half mile to check on a lady who complained of naught but a headache seemed odd at the very least.

"I am well, Mr. Darcy. It was only a headache, and I am fully recovered."

The gentleman seemed flummoxed, and finally replied, "I am happy to hear it."

He seemed confused, and kept glancing at the dollhouse, so Elizabeth said, "I see you are intrigued by my gift, Mr. Darcy. This only arrived within the hour from London. What do you think of it?"

Much to her surprise, he leaned over and at least pretended to observe the construct. Even more to her surprise, he leaned down onto one knee and inspected it closely, then asked, "May I examine the underside of the roof structure?"

Caught completely by surprise, Elizabeth paused, and finally said, "Be my guest, Sir."

He lifted up the roof structure, and looked at the underside for a moment, before setting it gently back where he found it, while replying, "As I thought! This is a Jameson, is it not?"

Elizabeth was a bit surprised by the question, but said, "I believe it might be. Do you know about those?"

He looked up at her a moment, and said, "Yes, I know a bit about them, thought I am not an expert. They are made by a man who would have been around a decade my father's senior, with the odd name of John Jonah Jameson. He is considered a bit eccentric among the ton because he will not make a dollhouse for someone he does not respect. My sister Georgiana has one at Pemberley that my father bought for her just after she was born, but Lady Catherine is still fuming to this day that he would not sell her one for Anne."

Not knowing quite how to respond, Elizabeth said, "I am all astonishment at your knowledge of dollhouses, Mr. Darcy."

He nodded, not really looking at her, and said, "Well, I have been my sister's guardian these five years, so that might seem the most likely reason, but it would not be entirely correct. In truth, Mr. Jameson Senior sent his son to Cambridge, with the hope that he might buy an estate one day. His son was three years behind me, so I did not know him well, but he is quite a good fencer and we sparred from time to time. I probably should admit he beat me far more often than the converse. It is also possible we may have shared a glass or two of port on occasion."

Curious, Elizabeth asked, "And what do you think of him?"

Darcy finally looked at her with another confusing expression, and said, "I thought well of him. I have not spoken to him in several years, but I believe he may well be on his way to his purchase."

Elizabeth thought she should ask her soon to be brother about that, as Jane had completely neglected to mention any of it. It was so odd that Mr. Darcy would know Mr. Jameson. Elizabeth wondered if she should enlighten the gentleman on the connection, but eventually decided to let sleeping dogs lie.

Darcy leaned down to look more closely at the dollhouse and ran his fingers along the edges of the maze. He said, "I believe the shell of this house was made by the father, Mr. Jameson Sr. It would be quite valuable."

Surprised, Elizabeth asked, "Valuable, Sir?"

"Yes, there are collectors that want one very badly, mostly as a matter of pride. Most of the purchasers do their best to abide by the senior Mr. Jameson's guidelines, so they only sell to the more respectable families. Some of the less respectable would like one to satisfy their vanity, and the more respectable would pay handsomely to keep the legacy intact. It makes for a bit of a competition, that drives prices up."

He looked closer, pointed at one of the maze walls, and said, "See the walls here, though. The style is different. This maze was added later, in fact, quite recently I would say. It does not look _quite _like the father's work, so I would speculate it is the work of the son. He is good, very good in fact, but not as good as his father. Of course, it is not his principle trade so that seems reasonable. He is more of a merchant and importer, I believe. I may even have a share on one of his ships, if I am not mistaken."

Elizabeth was quite surprised both by the information, and that she was getting it from Mr. Darcy. She was also uncomfortably aware that he had been here for quite some time without a chaperone, and it behooved her, for both of their sakes to get him out the door.

"Mr. Darcy, I thank you for the information. I find it very useful, but I am certain you did not come here to discuss dollhouses, and well… well… we are unchaperoned, Sir, and I would have a care for our repu…"

The gentleman sprang up from the dollhouse, as if he were suddenly reminded of an urgent task that he needed to get on with. He stalked over to the fireplace and proceeded to pace back and forth a few times in a circle, while she looked on in confusion.

Starting to become a bit concerned about the entire enterprise, Elizabeth started to ask, "Mr. Dar…", but was again interrupted by the man starting to speak quite forcefully.

_"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."_

_Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. _She may have thought she was prepared for whatever Mr. Darcy thought to throw at her, but this was quite beyond anything she had considered in her carefully laid analysis. _She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. _What in the world could she possibly say to such a declaration, delivered so abruptly without the tiniest, most minute, hint preceding it? This was not how courtships were performed.

At the first avowal, Elizabeth felt something that was both quite foreign to her sensibilities, and extremely surprising in its intensity. She felt a _huge thrill _that this man had managed to generate such feelings for _her__. _She felt a momentary sense of belonging, of being a part of something _important_, of being at the _beginning _of something. It was a feeling she thought she might like very well indeed once she got over her shock. None of her careful thinking, fretting or analysis had prepared her for that burst of pure feeling.

Of course, being a rational creature, she was aware that she was no more in love with him than she had been ten minutes previously, nor was she likely to be in love with him anytime in the very immediate future. However, for the first time, she could imagine, both in her mind and her heart, that she _could_, given sufficient encouragement and time.

Elizabeth was sensible enough to know she was feeling a sort of infatuation, or perhaps it was just a letting down of her guard to allow a feeling previously hidden to see the light of day, but it was… it was… profound, disturbing, exhilarating and disconcerting.

Unfortunately, as the man continued, she felt that tiny flower of hope wither and die, much like the _thin sort of inclination _being starved away by one good sonnet. _He spoke well; but there were feelings besides those of the heart to be detailed; and he was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than of pride. His sense of her inferiority–of its being a degradation–of the family obstacles which had always opposed to inclination. _

_"In spite of all my endeavors, I have found it impossible to conquer my feelings for you. I have had the highest regard for you almost from the first moment. In declaring my feelings for you I am going against the wishes of my family, my friends, and my own better judgment. The situation of your mother's family, though objectionable, is nothing in comparison to the total want of propriety so frequently, so almost uniformly betrayed by herself, by your younger sisters, occasionally even by your father. I know your family is inferior—our social situations are vastly different. I am well aware of the family obstacles; they have always opposed my inclination to you. I am so much in love as to wish to marry you in spite of all my objections. I hope that now I will be rewarded by your acceptance on my hand. Please, consent to by my wife."_

By the time he finished, she was fighting between the contrary desires to rail and cry. She wanted to rail at the fact that she had _yet another awkward conversation _to deal with, this time her own. She wanted to rail at the injustice of the declarations, whilst simultaneously wanting to cry for the forlorn death of hope, like flower seeds falling on rocky soil. She wanted to cry that she had ever even allowed them to be planted in the first place. She was surprisingly short on the one emotion that such a declaration _should _produce. She was not angry, but she was… disappointed… profoundly disappointed, and the feeling was very disconcerting.

When the man finally quite speaking, Elizabeth was barely able to function rationally, so she tried Mary's advice – do some arithmetic… any arithmetic. She settled for proportional scaling, something simple enough to be accomplished in a few seconds to restore her equilibrium.

She imagined Mr. Darcy's proposal, such as it was, to be an hour. By that standard, roughly the first 9 minutes and the last 6, a mere quarter of the total time, had been dedicated to things that could be considered in her favor. Yes, he loved her, admired her, etc., etc., etc., as was common for any proposal. Even poor deluded William had managed to say some of those in his ill‑advised proposal in Longbourn. The almost proforma and perfunctory asking for her hand was standard fare, so really, only about 15% of the words were of affection, with 10% dedicated to required forms, and the remaining 75% some form of derision.

Elizabeth was torn about what to do. Before Mary's tutoring, and Jane's rage, and her deep thinking, she thought she well might have been so angry as to lash out with the strongest language she had. She had an instinctive aversion to that path, because something told her that the strongest language Elizabeth Bennet was capable of might be very strong indeed. That outcome was still a possibility, but she was limited by that first flash of… well, perhaps proto-love, or affection, or anticipation, or desire that she had felt in the beginning. That feeling of _lost possibilities_ stayed her hand and cooled her temper.

Once she thought about her lack of anger for a moment, she also had to look very hard at her well-established conclusions, and how they fit into this new situation. She eventually worked out that she _did not __want__ to hurt this man!_ No matter how awkward his application, or disagreeable his disdain, or unacceptable his suit may be; she owed it to him to answer _honestly, but with kindness_.

She noticed she had been silent too long, and saw the gentleman standing there with a look she could not quite place. He had spoken of uncertainty, but he did not have the look of a man expecting anything save acceptance. In his mind, he probably reckoned that she had been flirting with him for nearly half a year, and what lady in her right mind would turn down one of the richest men in England, and a handsome one at that.

With a sigh, Elizabeth finally said, "Please sit down, Mr. Darcy. You are half a foot taller than me, and I am sitting. This will be hard enough without you towering over me."

His face took on a look of chagrin, and he said, "Of course, forgive me. I should have thought of that."

He sat down, and his face for the first time started to show some signs of uncertainty. Elizabeth thought it almost without doubt that he had come here with the express purpose of making his declaration and leaving shortly with her consent. She doubted very much that he had even thought about any other possibility.

"Mr. Darcy, this is difficult to say, so please do not interrupt. I very much appreciate your address. You have my deepest and profoundest gratitude, and I am acutely aware of the honor you bestow me by asking. However, I am afraid I must decline. _I am sorry to have occasioned pain to anyone, _especially you. In reviewing our association, I believe my manners may have been at fault. If I have given you an inaccurate impression, I deeply apologize. If I have caused you pain, I can assure you that _it has been most unconsciously done, and I _dearly _hope will be of short duration._"

She cautiously peeked up at him, and saw his face go momentarily into what could well have passed as anger, but then it almost immediately fell to something more akin to despair. Despite a mad urge to ease his pain in some way, whether it be touching his hand or his arm, or even wrapping him in an embrace, Elizabeth sat still without moving a muscle.

The gentleman did not seem very inclined to say anything, so Elizabeth whispered, _"You are a good man, Sir, and it wounds me to give you pain, but it must be done. I am so very sorry._"

Elizabeth felt her gut clenching in agitation, and felt a few tears leak from her eyes, but steady to her purpose, she simply wiped them off with the back of her hand, foregoing elegance entirely. She was surprised to see what looked like tears growing in the gentleman's eyes as well, but apparently, he had been trained to suppress them better than she had.

He heaved a great sigh, and said, "Very well, Miss Bennet. I must accept your judgment, as much as it pains me. You should not censure yourself. Your manners have never been the slightest bit at fault in the entire time of our association."

Elizabeth had no idea what to say, so said, "Still, Sir, I am so very sorry. I know this must be very difficult."

He looked at her eyes momentarily, but then looked back down at her hands quickly, either to keep his composure or allow her to keep hers.

He asked in a timid voice, "Like yourself, I would not like to cause pain for anyone, _most particularly_ you, but would you be willing to tell me where I went wrong? Have I rival?"

"No, Sir. My situation is improved by having one sister married and another recently betrothed, and my brother in law has engineered a small dowry for me; but otherwise, I remain as I have always been."

He nodded sadly and said, "So, you are not bound for another… just… just…"

He took a heaving sigh, and continued, "… just not for me."

"I am afraid so, Sir."

He looked at her sheepishly, and asked, "If it is not too painful, might you tell me why? I hate to burden you, but I fear I know myself all too well. I will brood about it for months, imagine every possible fault in my character, and believe all of them simultaneously; even if some of them are contradictory and mutually exclusive."

Elizabeth couldn't help a sad little giggle, and very much appreciated that the gentleman was willing to make a small joke to ease the pain of what must be done.

"Mr. Darcy, in my family, I am known as the mistress of awkward conversations. This will be my third awkward matrimonial intervention. I can stand it if you can. Are you certain you wish to know?"

"Yes, if you can bear it."

Elizabeth sighed, clasped her hands together tightly to keep them from shaking, and began.

"To be honest, both your scruples and mine come back to the same source – my mother."

"Your mother!", he said with a surprised expression.

"Yes, Sir. My mother, although it will take some explanation to make sense."

"Please proceed, if you are still willing."

Elizabeth took a deep breath and began.

"To begin, Mr. Darcy, let me say that I will only speak on my reasons that have some effect on our discussion today. I will not bring up trivialities like the fact that you slighted me before you even met me. Those are all minor annoyances, water under the bridge."

Darcy looked shocked by that reminder of that first night, so Elizabeth clarified, "I only mention it, Mr. Darcy, because that incident made it very difficult to sketch your character at the beginning of our acquaintance, and I detested you for quite some time. I have long since quit whingeing about it, and I did not want it to ever come up again."

Darcy nodded, and said, "Well, factor or not, it was terribly ungentlemanly behavior. I sincerely apologize, Elizabeth."

She noticed the use of her Christian name, but let it pass.

Finally drawing a breath, she said, "Mr. Darcy, there are three reasons I cannot accept your hand, though of vastly different magnitudes. The first two are _not _insurmountable, but they did affect me in some ways."

"Understood."

"The first is the matter of Mr. Bingley. He is your good friend, and he treated my sister _very_ badly. He _courted _her, by any acceptable definition of the term, for six weeks, claimed to leave for a few days, and never returned. I understand you had some hand in that…"

She saw him straightening up, possibly ready to speak, so held up her hand and aid, "Please, Mr. Darcy. Wait until I finish."

He nodded, and she continued.

"From something your cousin told me, and by the way you should teach him to keep his gossip to himself, I surmised you had some hand in convincing him to abandon Jane. Now, before you become vexed, please listen. Jane and I both have examined our family's faults in detail, and our entire family has made corrections. Except for my parents, who are as they ever were, you would not recognize my sisters. _I cannot blame you for steering Mr. Bingley away from Jane after the spectacle my mother made at the Netherfield ball. _I did a mental exercise just yesterday where I reversed the roles, and I found I would do the same when faced with such a mercenary. Therefore, I do not hold you to blame for that aspect of the debacle."

She looked to be sure he was listening. He was staring intently, so she took a deep breath.

"_However!_ If you were going to interfere, you should have done so _properly_. Mr. Bingley could have abandoned her but told her of his intentions, or lack thereof, in a hundred ways. He could have acted like a grown man instead of a frightened little boy and came to tell her to her face. He could have written to my father. He could have sent secret messages through our servants. You could have explained it to my father. _It was badly done, Sir!_"

Darcy stared at his feet, and said, "Yes, when you force me to see it from your perspective, I can agree. "

Elizabeth pointed at the dollhouse, and said, "That was what the dollhouse was for, Mr. Darcy. I used an analogy of boxes and houses to teach another gentleman how to see the world from another perspective. _I used the same technique on mysel_f to look at the world from _your_ point of view, and that was the only reason I was prepared to give you a chance tonight."

Darcy looked up sharply at that, and said, "You mean I was not doomed from the start?"

Elizabeth blushed furiously, stared at her hands, and said, "No, Sir, you were not. You were by no means assured of success, or even an easy path, but you were not doomed."

"What changed?"

"I will get to that with my third reason. To finish the topic of Mr. Bingley, perhaps I should show you the darker side of my character. My sister would have been _grievously_ wounded by that boy's abandonment, had I not _manipulated_ her."

Looking puzzled, he asked, "How so?"

"Well, Sir… Some say love and hate are two sides of the same coin. Jane could not think clearly, so it was my duty to do so in her stead. I convinced her to flip over the coin."

Darcy nodded, and said, "Love to hate… understandable enough."

"Yes, Sir. I fed her rage mercilessly, and she burned out all her emotions about the man in a single rage filled day, whilst chastising my parents nearly to death over our failures as a family. It was quite intemperate by any standard, and triply so for Jane. However, I imagine the fact that she could actually succeed in forgetting him so quickly makes your point for you. If she truly loved him, she would not have been able to dismiss him in such a short time."

"Do not make excuses for me, Miss Elizabeth. You say this hurt my chances, but was not the death knell?"

"No, Sir. But it is something I only recently, and after a lot of reflection was able to let go of. Though it was not what makes me decline your hand, I thought you should know that all of our interactions here at Rosings have been tainted by the past, and viewed through that lens."

"Very well. I shall examine that part of my character and try to amend it. You are correct. I could have done more or insisted Bingley do more. I failed both your sister and my friend."

"If you must do so for your own benefit, feel free. I do not demand it. If you would like some advice, I would suggest you let Mr. Bingley start making his own mistakes."

He sighed, and replied, "Yes, that is good advice. My 'help' was in service of a friend, but it was badly done and probably counterproductive. Shall we move on to the second reason?"

"The second is somewhat minor, but it was something that caused me a bit of grief, although, as I said, I was over it long before this conversation, and even before coming to Hunsford. It is the matter of Mr. Wickham."

Darcy growled, "What about Mr. Wickham?"

Not intimidated in the least, Elizabeth stared at him and said, "You knew he was a scoundrel, and I gave you the _perfect _opportunity to appraise me of his character, and you did _nothing_. At the time you left, I stupidly admired the man, and you just left me to him. You warned nobody, not even me. I have forgiven you for it because Lydia worked out his nature a few days after you left, but it took some effort."

Darcy stared at his hands, which were clenching each other hard enough to turn his knuckles white, and said, "That man has been the bane of my existence all my life. I had reasons for keeping my tongue, but they were mostly rationalizations around my pride."

Feeling sorry for his distress, Elizabeth just barely managed to stop herself from touching his hands to get him to stop.

"As I said, Sir, a minor point. It is just something that bothered me at one point, but I had already resolved it."

Darcy relaxed his hands, and said, "Something tells me you started with the easy things, because you still have not gotten to the _real _reason, and you feel it will either anger or pain me."

"You are correct. It will do both, and I have been prevaricating."

"I understand."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, Sir, we now come to the crux of the matter. I…"

The lady sat for a moment gathering her scattered thoughts, and said, "Well, Sir… It was your proposal… well, not the proposal per se, but the underlying sentiments it exposed. You see, Sir…"

She paused to gather her thoughts, and said, "Well, Sir, it is the 'scruples' as you called them, that prevents me from accepting your offer. You see, Sir, nobody wants to be considered inferior. Nobody wants to be second best, barely tolerable, less than ideal, good in a pinch, any port in a storm, adequate and so forth. Nobody knows more of the defects of my family, especially my parents than I do, but they _are _my family and will remain so. My connections _are what they are_, and frankly, if they are insufficient for a Mrs. Bingley, they are far-far-far from adequate for Mrs. Darcy. I will not…"

Elizabeth paused for a moment, feeling tears pooling in her eyes, but this time she just let them fall.

Darcy sighed, and said, "I did not mean…"

Elizabeth stared at him with tear filled eyes, and said, "_Of course you meant them, Mr. Darcy! _You could not help yourself if you tried. You said it yourself. You have struggled for _months_ to _overcome your scruples_, to decide if I was _good enough_ to be Mrs. Darcy. _I never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. _I do not _blame _you for that. You are what you are, and I am what I am. I will marry a tradesman, or a squire like a less lazy version of my father or a soldier or a clergyman; and I will be perfectly happy. They will see me as the best thing that ever happened to them, not something that is barely adequate and only acceptable in the throes of ill advised infatuation."

"I do not…"

Elizabeth stared at him until his words ran out, and she continued.

"You see, Sir… In the end, in an odd way, as I said before, I cannot marry you because of my mother – but not for the reasons you might think."

Looking quite perplexed, he asked, "You mother?"

"Yes, Sir… my mother. I am certain you remember her."

Darcy nodded, afraid to say anything.

Elizabeth said, "Do not fear saying what you are thinking, Mr. Darcy. Every one of my sisters including Jane has said far worse than whatever came into your head these last five months. But you see… well, you see…"

She took a deep breath, and said, "Sir, as you no doubt noticed, _she is a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. When she is discontented, she fancies herself nervous._ You saw her in full flower at the Netherfield ball. We both remember the conversation, I am sure."

Having no idea what to do, but wanting to do _something_, Darcy handed her his handkerchief.

"Thank you. Well, Sir… I shall explain. Do you believe my mother was _born _that way?"

"Of course, not."

"No, of course. It may surprise you to know she was not way that as a young wife and mother. Lady Catherine likes to ridicule us because we never had a governess, but we all turned out well enough in the end. When I was small, my mother was not as she is now. That only came later… much later... after… well…"

Darcy held his breath in anticipation.

"… well, after she, in her own view of the world, _failed _to produce a son, as if producing five live and healthy children was not enough for any woman. As the years without a son piled up, she became nervous about the entail, because, simple as it is, it just does not make sense to her. Instead of patiently explaining it to her often enough, my father started teasing her about it. Instead of taking his daughters to hand, he just left them all to my mother to raise. Instead of laying money aside for dowries, he wasted it on expensive books."

She dabbed her eyes a few times, finding an odd comfort in using _his _handkerchief for the last time.

"You can rightfully blame her for her mercenary tendencies, but as awkward as she is, and as narrow minded as she is – well, Sir… she is doing her very best, and she is _right _about what her daughters need. Marriage is the only route to security for a woman of my class and standing."

Elizabeth stared at her feet hard, and said, "My parents are very mismatched, Sir. I am sure they loved each other at least somewhat when they were young, or at least liked each other. But they were not well suited. My father came to resent the fact that he married a woman _inferior _to him, and he made her suffer for it… for decades."

She looked back at Mr. Darcy and stared at him hard.

"I am not supposing you would do anything so terrible, Mr. Darcy. Frankly, I cannot believe it of you. I do not claim to understand your character, but I cannot imagine you acting as my father did and still does. You would however, go into a marriage believing in my inferiority. I have to use mathematics to make sense of the world, so think on this. You spent well over 80% of the words allocated to your proposal speaking about _your _struggles, _your _considerations, _your _acceptance of _my_ family, _my _connections, _my_ inferiority. In what should have been the most important speech of your life, this is what you chose to focus on, with nary a thought for how _I _might receive the words. I do not blame you. Nothing you said is _wrong_. You _should not _marry below you when you have all the choices in the world. You would not _mistreat _me, I am certain of that, but I will not be _second best_, for you or any man. I would rather be _best _for a man a tenth or a hundredth of your consequence."

Darcy looked like he was about to start crying again, so Elizabeth decided it was time to end this debacle.

Boldly, she finally reached across and grasped his hands.

"Mr. Darcy, please… please… please… listen to me. You are not wrong to think of your family legacy. Two hundred years from now your family will still be well known and important, while mine will not. That is as it should be. Your ancestors fought for centuries to establish your place. It is in your blood. It is in your upbringing. You can no more change your nature than a dog can change its desire to hunt. Do not fight it, Sir."

She squeezed until he looked at her and said her last piece.

"Mr. Darcy, you have been hiding from the women of your own kind for a decade. I refuse to believe they are _all_ terrible empty-headed flirts with mercenary mothers. Perhaps you need to look to the younger and overlooked sisters, or the intelligent but less beautiful ones, or better yet, the older ones; but there is a woman out there that will make your heart sing who is of the right station. I just know it."

She stood up, pulling him with her, because it was well past time for him to be gone. She took his elbow and led him over to recover his hat and coat.

She walked him to the door, and as he turned to go, she faced him.

"Mr. Darcy, please do not despair. This is a setback, not a calamity. Tomorrow, or in a fortnight you will see that I am right. Might I offer one last parting bit of advice, Sir."

Much to his embarrassment, Darcy sniffled a bit and had to wipe his eyes, before asking, "I would be honored."

"_Find the woman you can marry without apology._"


	24. Sisterly Affection

_A/N: First things first - to quote the legendary Douglas Adams: 'Don't Panic'. All will be as it should be._

_WOW! Quite a strong reaction to the last chapter, which leaves me insufferably smug. Don't think anyone saw that one coming! I think it's one of my best, and there seems to be some agreement. I gauge reaction by number of reviews, and a guess to the fervency of them. When measured by Reviews/View or Reviews/Chapter, this is the most reviewed chapter I've ever written, with about 10x the usual. The # of reviews matches my #2, which is Raging Jane from Chapter 10, so I thank you all for the lovely and useful comments._

_Now, how about a little sausage making. For the very astute and trivia obsessed, I will say that the last line, _"_Find the woman you can marry without apology_"_ is paraphrased from Vikings. Of course, like our Jane I am deviating just a __tiny__ bit from the original, since in that case, Ragnar Lodbrok says, 'I die without apology', just before they dump him into a pit full of snakes, so naturally I had to reuse that in a Hunsford Proposal. Who wouldn't? In the interest of only minimal spoilerage, that line will be important later._

_Back 21 chapters ago when I gave readers the choice of a short and long version, I had not the slightest idea what the long version would be. It took about a week for the story arc to come into some kind of focus, and all I had at that point was __that one line__, and the corresponding line that will match it later. That became the foundation for the longer version._

_A few are asking for a short resolution, but I fear you'll be disappointed. This is after all the long version. I expect another 5‑10 chapters but take my estimate for what it's worth since all I'm sure of is one scene in the penultimate chapter. Today we have a bit of calm before the storm, although after the last chapter, this storm will be more like a little rain shower if that. _

_Wade_

* * *

A very confused Mary Collins stepped into her parlor to find a large assortment of pasteboard boxes, a disassembled dollhouse and her sister sitting on the floor in the middle of it with tears rolling down her face. She shooed her husband past and went to her sister. Mr. Collins glanced at the tableau and did as he was bid. He was a man with enough sense to stay out of women's business. If they wanted his help, they would ask for it.

Mary walked boldly in, or as boldly as she could without stepping on any of the boxes, sat down beside her sister, reached around her shoulder, and said, "It seems you had a delivery, a visitor or both. Which has reduced you to tears, my dear?"

Elizabeth snuffled a bit, and said, "As to the first question, I had both – a delivery and a visitor. As to the tears, well… I imagine they come from both, though they are vastly different tears for vastly different reasons."

A bit confused, Mary looked around, and Elizabeth said, "Let us start with the easiest one. This beautiful dollhouse is Jane's betrothal announcement. The question has been asked and answered."

Mary smiled in pure unadulterated joy, squeezed her sister even harder with both hands, and said, "I am so so happy!", but then looked at the dollhouse in a perplexed way.

Elizabeth said, "It makes sense to me, but I cannot tell you _why_."

Mary scooted closer to the dollhouse, looked inside, saw all three dolls, and said, "You did not tell me you had a second awkward matrimonial conversation… though I shall certainly not fault you for keeping it to yourself. It seems obvious to me that you somehow pointed two overly private people in the right direction, so this must be thanks as well as announcement?"

Elizabeth laughed a bit, and said, "You are entirely too clever for your own good, Mary. You are correct, but we shall speak of that story no more. Their situation has resolved itself in the way it should be resolved."

"So you approve of Mr. Jameson?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, there is no simple answer to that. Of course, I approve of him. He is a lovely man. On the other hand, I feel I should not be voicing approval or disapproval. They are both grown, and they decided together. That would be good enough for me, whether I liked him or not."

"Yes, I can quite agree", said Mary, "but I cannot say it does not make it better that you _do _like him. _Jane has liked many a stupider person._"

They both giggled, and Mary asked if Lizzy wanted some tea. She nodded, so Mary went over to build up the fire and put the kettle back on. In Longbourn, nobody would ever make their own tea over the fireplace, but in Hunsford Cottage, with only one maid of all work and a cook, it was the done thing.

Once the fire was started, and the water was heating, Mary said, "Well, I can understand tears of happiness for Jane, but that was not what I witnessed when I came in."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "No, I suppose not. Your guess was correct. I _did _have a visit, and it has left me… disconcerted."

"Lizzy, disconcerted is when you raise an eyebrow or say something impertinent. You are _far _beyond disconcerted, though I cannot for the life of me think of a mathematical way to express it."

Elizabeth giggled a bit, and asked, "Who am I going to have to lift me out of my funks when you are surrounded by Little Williams and Marys?"

Mary blushed, and said, "Well, funny you should ask, Lizzy. I cannot promise you lots of them, but all signs are for one in the fall. I believe I felt the quickening just this evening. You are the first to know. I have not even told my William yet."

Feeling so much happier she wanted to jump up and dance, _very carefully around her big boxes_, she just smiled and hugged her sister's legs, since she was still sitting on the floor most inelegantly, and Mary was still standing waiting for the tea water to heat.

Elizabeth wanted to start chattering happily about all things baby-related, but Mary looked at her with the closest approximation to sternness she could manage.

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "I am glad you have years to perfect the stern mother look, Mary, as that one is not the least bit frightening."

Mary laughed, but she saw the underlying tension that her sister was trying to disguise with humor, as usual, and Mary for one was having none of it.

"All right, Lizzy. Enough procrastination. How did your Mr. Darcy leave you in tears?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well Mary, as I have previously asserted, he is not _my _Mr. Darcy… less so now than ever."

"What did he do? Do not tell me he offended you or did something improper! I am quite willing to set him on the straight and narrow path."

"No, no… There is nothing to censure him for… I…"

She paused, and let a few tears roll from her eyes, and said, "He told me admires me and loves me… then he proceeded to tell me in some excruciating detail how _inferior _I am, but then asserted he would _overlook _all those things if I would marry him."

Mary stared at her sister for a moment, not quite as surprised as one might think, and said, "Well, Lizzy… I will agree that is horrible, but… well… you never told me about William's efforts, but you see that, in the end, _he _was not irredeemable. Was it _that bad?_"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Purely objectively, the two were similar. You have no idea how lucky you were though Mary. You just wanted a roof over your head and a respectable position, but you struck gold. You lucked out with William."

"And you think Mr. Darcy does not have hidden depths?"

"Well, the thing is… I think I knew, though I would not acknowledge it to myself, that your William was mostly just awkward… as is Mr. Darcy when you get right down to it. However, in objective fact, you are William's equal and it took him almost no time to work it out. Mr. Darcy on the other hand thinks of me as definitely _inferior _to himself, which by the measures he is accustomed to using, _I am_. Where William was getting an elegant well‑educated _gentlewoman_ who _raised _his consequence, Mr. Darcy would be getting an educated woman of _less _elegance than he might expect, who would _lower _his consequence. In the end, he would resent me."

"Are you certain Lizzy. All it took was the right wife to bring William out of his shell."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I can only go with the numbers, Mary. At the beginning… well… at the very beginning, I _felt _something. It felt like the beginning of something beautiful, something meaningful, something beyond beautiful; but then within a minute or two he just stomped it into the dust. I can assure you that had you been in the room, you would not have been able to hear William's proposal either. You were saved by not having to hear it, while I was not. Some things are very difficult to un‑hear."

"All the same, Lizzy, I ask again. Is there not a chance Mr. Darcy might be redeemable?"

Elizabeth sighed, stared at the fire a moment, and said, "I have not just been wallowing, Mary. I have also been thinking hard. I asked myself the same question over and over and…"

"Go on."

With a great sigh, Elizabeth continued, "Perhaps there might, but I am not willing to be his downfall. Look at it this way. Your William knew you only eight days before your betrothal and did not pay any attention to you for at least five of those. It took him less than three weeks to become the man you see now. Mr. Darcy has known me for over _five months_. We spent four days cooped up in the same house together in Netherfield, and we have been in company for weeks here. He has met me in the park way more than is proper, and in all that time, he never came to a true understanding of who I am and what I need. He never once asked about my feelings. Should I hope that the pure power of my charms might make him a better man?"

Mary stared at her sister for a moment, then sat down on the sofa and leaned her chin into her hands. Flippant answers were not her forte, and she wanted to think all the way through it.

Elizabeth heard the kettle boiling, so went to prepare the tea, and to give her sister time to think.

When she came back with the tea several minutes later, Mary said, "Well, I assume you declined him. How brutal were you? I know you have a temper."

"I was the kindest, gentlest I could possibly be. You would hardly have recognized me."

"So, there is no hope?"

"Perhaps, had I been even more moderate, I might have held him off for a bit, or maybe asked for a courtship instead of a betrothal, or delayed my answer, but… I… I… I just could not… not in that moment. I am terrified of becoming like our mother. I know it is irrational, as you and I both have ten times her good sense, but… I cannot enter such an unequal union. I will need a strong husband, just as you need William and he needs you. Mr. Darcy does not _need _anyone at all. He _wants _me, but that is far from the same as _needing_ me. He said outright that he spent _months _fighting the attraction. I would be opposed by his family, his friends, and even his better judgment."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I do not… I cannot… Mary, I just cannot be the spoils of a lost battle. I do not know if it is my pride or my self-respect, but I… I just cannot."

Mary nodded, and took a few sips of her tea.

Elizabeth said, "Even if I could… which I cannot… no man would ever propose a second time. Of that, I am certain."

Mary sighed, and said, "I am not so sure as you Lizzy, but… well, it does seem unlikely."

They sat sipping their tea for a while, then Mary asked, "So, the tears, Lizzy. Are they tears of relief, tears of loss, tears of pain or tears of joy?"

"Yes"

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and finally Elizabeth said, "Do you know the _worst _part?"

"What was that, Lizzy?"

"There was a moment, a short fleeting moment, when my heart started to… not to soar as the poets say, but to… I cannot know how to say it… not soar per se, but it became aware that soaring was something that was possible. For just a moment, I was intrigued by… possibilities."

"And you think it now impossible, because of one awkwardly worded proposal?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "It is not that simple, Mary. It was not the five minutes of the proposal… it is the four _months _he spent, by his own admission, trying his very best to escape the trap of his infatuation. It is the years and years and years of being the mighty oak to the maul of his family's expectations. I cannot… no, I will not compete with that… but just for a moment… just for the most fleeting moment… even if it was only an instant… I felt like I _could_."

Mary sighed, and said, "I cannot fault you, Lizzy… I truly cannot. You could not change your nature any more than he could, and whilst it might have been possible for the two of you to have a truly great love story, I can see that there are just too many things against you."

Elizabeth reached around to hug her sister, and said, "Enough! So, you are feeling fluttering and spasms! Shall I call for your salts?"

With a smile and gentle laughter, both sisters laughed a bit until they cried. Then they got up, carefully reassembled the dollhouse, and put all the big boxes back together.

Elizabeth seriously considered leaving in the post in the morning to make Mr. Darcy's leave taking easier but decided that sent the wrong message. She would walk as she always did. She would be in the parsonage for callers as she always was. She would… she would… she would… she would resume her life, but it would never be quite the same.


	25. Chance Encounters

_A/N: Thank you thank you thank you. I would say I'm gobsmacked by the responses, but that's a British word and not Regency. Let's just say all the wonderful responses have touched my heart, and I really appreciate them._

_The story just keeps expanding and expanding in my mind, so I'm not at all certain I'll ever finish it. So far, it has continually surprised me as much as it does you. I am going to push my luck yet again in the next 3 chapters, which are all about a single encounter. _

_Who's for a little bit of – well, I won't say – except I can promise a bit of backstory that I think might be interesting._

_Wade_

* * *

Elizabeth felt much better after a night of sleep. She was far less upset, but also, perhaps just a touch melancholy. She thought it might take a week or a month to work out _what_ she was melancholy about. Was it that she had been required to endure one more awkward conversation? Was it that she had no doubt grievously wounded a mostly good though overly proud man? Was it that she feared she did not wound him at all, and he would take her advice and find a _better_ or at least _more suitable_ woman within the week? Was it that she was one day closer to spinsterhood, and had now rejected not one, but two quite eligible proposals of marriage? Elizabeth was at least wise enough to realize she would not work out those mysteries without some time and motion to think, and it was entirely possible she would never work them out at all.

After breakfast, she kissed Mary on the cheek and left to walk. Mary had told William the good news the night before, so she thought she could curtsy to him politely or bash him on the back with a spade without very much difference in effect. The man was practically babbling, but in a good way.

She left and wandered along her favorite paths without paying the slightest attention to where she was going. As she walked, she thought more and more about the Derbyshire gentleman. Even if it was impossible for him to occupy her home, he seemed perfectly able to occupy her head nearly all the time. It was as if he had taken up residence there.

As she walked along, she would occasionally feel her fingernails digging into her palm and look down to see her hand balled into a fist and shaking with anger so hard she might break a finger. At other times, she felt tears in her eyes, but usually had no idea why, and frequently did not notice them until they covered her cheek.

She found his voice going around and around and around in her head, over and over. _'Inferior'_, _'Degradation'_, _'Mother'_, _'Sisters', 'Admire and Love'_, and found that there were surprisingly few significant words. Broadly categorized, the offensive ones made her angry, and the admiring words lifted her heart for a moment, then sent it crashing back into either anger or dismay. Sometimes she thought she should count the words, make a histogram to categorize them, and put them into a pie chart by category, or review every interaction and figure out how she could have done better – or – well, it was always the same. Or Or Or Or Or Or Or Or Or! Could have! Should have! Would have! Might have! None were worth anything at all. _Vexing Vexing Man!_

Not paying the slightest attention to where she was walking, she found it either completely surprising or completely expected (she had no trouble with mutually exclusive expectations), that her feet carried her to the exact spot where Mr. Darcy had first 'encountered' her 'by chance'. Naturally, she found him there once again, completely by chance, of course.

The gentleman approached in a surprisingly timid manner, bowed deeply, and said, _"_Miss Bennet. _I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?"_

Elizabeth noticed he was handing her a letter, with her name prominently on the front in a very handsome masculine hand.

Without pausing for thought, she snapped, "I most certainly will not! Put that away! What were you thinking?"

With a startled look, as if the thought that he might be risking harm to her reputation with the letter only occurred to him after her chastisement, he quickly withdrew it and put it into his waistcoat pocket.

Looking very contrite, he turned and said, "_My apologies, Miss Bennet!_ You are right! You are absolutely correct! I was _not _thinking properly. I am so sorry. I shall trouble you no more."

With a very _final _looking bow, he turned and started to walk away. Elizabeth looked at him for just a few seconds, even more frustrated, and snapped at him once more, wondering how many more such exclamations lay between her current deportment and becoming a complete copy of her mother.

In the closest to a shout she had used in many years, she said, "Do not walk away from me!"

He stopped abruptly, paused a moment, then turned slowly around to face her but seemed singularly obsessed with her boots.

Elizabeth sighed in frustration, and said, "I apologize for my tone, Sir. That was uncivil and uncalled for. It is not my desire to order you about, lose your company or demand to keep it. You just startled me."

With a grim chuckle, he said, "Miss Bennet, you of all people need not reproach yourself for you 'tone', as you put it. In the entirety of our acquaintance, that is the first time you have raised your voice to _anybody for anything _within my hearing; and to be honest, it is but a tenth part of what I deserve."

Elizabeth moved a step closer, stared at him until he finally looked up at her face, and said, "Do not overcompensate, Mr. Darcy. That is as disingenuous as when that gentleman who shared Netherfield with us boasted of his poor penmanship and scattered thinking; and he thought to call it a virtue. Perhaps it is a quarter or half of what you think you deserve, but do not overstate your case. I fear I am fresh out of hair shirts."

The odd bit of humor made the man chuckle a bit, but still feeling extraordinarily confused, Darcy sighed, and said, "Miss Bennet, I am confused, and I make no bones about it. I feel like a lost and drifting sailor. However, as you have ten times my skill in social interaction, I will gladly accede to any suggestion you might make. I only wished to spare you any more pain."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Slinking away, with the last words you ever hear from me being words of chastisement, would not relieve me of any pain, Mr. Darcy. It would only compound it."

"Tell me what I should do, Miss Bennet."

Stated plainly like that, Elizabeth had to think a moment, because she did not actually know what she wanted him to do, aside from _not _handing her an improper letter, and _not _skulking away. She had not the slightest idea. She thought a few moments, and said, "Offer me your arm like any ordinary gentleman happening upon a lady of his acquaintance by chance and let us walk, Mr. Darcy. I think better when I am moving."

Out of habit and training, they adopted the generally accepted norms for a walk in the park, and they proceeded in silence for what Elizabeth estimated was 114 steps before she spoke.

"You said you were walking in the grove hoping to meet me, Sir. Why not just watch for me from the folly as usual?"

He chuckled, and said, "There is no fooling you, is there. How did you work it out?"

"It was rudimentary cartography, Mr. Darcy. Miss de Bourgh has a very nice map of Rosings. Converging lines of sight defined the vantage point, and timing verified it."

He sighed, and said, "I should never have imagined an aficionado of mathematics would believe our meetings to be by chance."

"No, Sir. I calculated the odds and updated my calculations with each meeting. The calculations are simple enough after I estimated your habits of walking from past observations. The odds of even two meetings by chance are vanishingly small. You were stalking me."

"How long did you know?"

"From the second day. Even that was quite unlikely."

"Did it worry you?"

Elizabeth paused a moment, and said, "If it had, Mr. Darcy, you would have known. I can be… abrupt when my temper is riled."

"And yet you did not mention it."

"Rules of propriety, Mr. Darcy. We were both cheating then, as we are now. If the meetings were acknowledged as planned, they become improper rendezvous. If they were by chance, they just barely pass the requirements. I assumed you were reasonably discreet, as what man would want to get leg shackled over a few walks in the park? It is all quite logical."

Darcy laughed a bit, and said, "Yes, what man indeed."

Elizabeth blushed, and said, "I am sorry, that was…"

He abruptly stopped her, and said, "No apologies, Elizabeth. Please."

She ignored his use of her Christian name, assuming he must have used it in that overcrowded head of his for months, thought about it a moment, then tugged him back into motion, and said, "I shall do my best."

"That shall be more than sufficient. Now, to answer your original question, I suspected you knew of my previous strategy and… well, I cannot decide on which excuse to use for simply waiting at that spot. I either did not want to frighten you should you work out how I had been 'stalking you' as you put it, or I figured that you might choose a different route and avoid my scrutiny altogether. To tell the truth, I came here hoping either serendipity or your own inclinations would deliver you to this place, eventually. I would have found another way to talk to you if this did not work, but all the other methods are… uncomfortable."

"Yes. Well, it worked so I imagine you have no complaint."

"None against you. For myself, I spent all night doing something that was once suggested to me. I recalled our entire acquaintance in my mind, beginning to end, except I replaced myself with an unknown gentleman, and yourself with my sister. I wrote the results in the letter you very sensibly did not take."

"And…"

"And if I could somehow move about in time, I would go back six months and beat my younger self with a stick."

Elizabeth could not help letting a giggle escape her lips, and said, "That is very specific, Mr. Darcy. How, pray tell, did you choose a stick?"

Darcy laughed along with her. The laughter for both was awkward and uncomfortable, but it did release their tension a bit.

He said, "It is an old expression I heard from a tenant as a child. I do not know its origins. I presume a stick is hard enough to hurt but not kill. Just the right compromise between a willow switch, a club and a rock."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, in the end, even without the stick beating, your younger self was not so _very_ terrible, Mr. Darcy. I had mostly forgiven him by yesterday. I had even thought we might be some sort of friends."

"Truly."

"Yes, Truly. You may not have correlated all you know, Mr. Darcy, so I shall inform you. I am a very good prevaricator, but a terrible liar. I have avoided saying what I thought to you and your friends dozens of times, but I have never lied to any of you even once; unless you are a stickler for lies by omission."

As they walked along the path, Elizabeth was thinking and not particularly paying attention to where she was going. She noticed she was gradually being pulled to the side of the path, while Mr. Darcy was walking clear off the side, with his boots in a bit of mud. Curiously, she looked ahead and found some mud on her side of the path, but none on his. He was guiding her around it without even appearing to think about it. She could have stepped over the puddle with hardly a hop, but he was preventing even that.

She had to admit that she was slightly touched by the minor act of chivalry. She found to be sweet and endearing – and confusing.


	26. Reflections

When they passed the small mud obstacle, such as it was, Darcy said, "Miss Bennet, I must make a confession."

Curious, she replied, "If you must."

He sighed, and said, "I discussed my plight with my cousin last night. I know you have every reason to believe he is a prolific gossip, and perhaps not all that clever, but he can be silent as the grave when it is called for, and he does have a keen tactical sense when he puts his mind to it. He will not break your confidence. We grew up together, and he is closer to a brother to me than a cousin; while I am closer to a brother to him than his own flesh and blood. I should not have, but I felt the need for someone intelligent to help me think through things."

Elizabeth felt anger stirring in her head and had to force herself to calm down and think rationally. The answer, when it came, seemed so obvious enough she wanted to smack her own head.

"Mr. Darcy, I discussed at least the high points of our evening with Mary last night, so I can hardly complain about your own need for a confidant. Tell me, if you are of a mind, what did your cousin think."

Darcy snorted a bit, and said, "Before or after he quit laughing at me?"

Elizabeth appreciated the attempt at humor. She could tell he was a terrible liar as she was, but she appreciated the attempt.

"You choose."

"He says you are a mirror."

Perplexed, she asked, "How so?"

"He says, that you are a mirror, because you show people their true selves. He spoke to you, and he came away with the understanding that he could well be a hurtful gossip, because he is so gregarious, and finds company and conversation so essential, that he does not always think through what he says."

"Yes, well, I could probably excuse the gossip, but I deplore the stupidity of not being able to put the pieces together and work out that I almost certainly knew the woman he was talking about. Something tells me you are not finished, though."

"I am about a third of the way through, or 33.3333333333333333333% if you prefer."

Elizabeth smiled, and squeezed his arm a bit, which actually felt rather… nice."

"Now, Fitzwilliam had another example I will come to presently, but let me first discuss the second third. At the Netherfield ball, I met your cousin, the most obnoxious mixture of _servility and self-importance _I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. The man I met here a few weeks ago could hardly be recognized as the same man. I would assert that your brother is the _true _Mr. Collins, and the man I met at the ball was the man before being exposed to the Elizabeth Bennet Mirror. Dare you contradict me?"

Elizabeth stared at him, and said, "You give me credit that is not due, Mr. Darcy. My cousin was transformed by his acquaintance with my sister, not by me."

"Ahhhhhhhh… I see, I see. My apologies. I must have been misinformed. I had heard a rumor he favored _you _first and may even have gone so far as to act on it."

Elizabeth began to turn embarrassed, so the gentleman relented.

"Peace, Miss Elizabeth. I was trying to tease, something I have no skill at. Is it possible that your 'awkward conversation' had at least a significant part of his stunning transformation?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "We will never know. I _did_ intervene, and he _did _very quickly revert to his true nature. Whether I had anything to do with it or not… well, I cannot say."

"But you cannot say you did _not_ have the effect."

"No, I suppose not. Negative theses can rarely be proven. Shall we move on to the last third. I cannot imagine you saved the easiest 1/3 for last."

"No, not by half. When Fitzwilliam got wound up, he told me that you had shown me that I must be immersed in _the fullest belief of my arrogance, my conceit, and my selfish disdain of the feelings of others._"

"I wish you would not say things like that! I did no such thing."

He stopped walking, and she stopped along with him. He walked in front of her to where she could see his face, which had been difficult walking side by side because of the angle and her bonnet and stared at her.

"Well, Miss Mathematician, here is your chance to disprove him using the Scientific Method. Find a _single instance _of behavior that _you yourself have witnessed _that disproves the theory. I know you have received good reports from my aunt's tenants and the like, but I could perfectly well be amiable to them out of duty, or more likely because it is to my advantage to keep them happy. I can be amiable with my peers, but that could be just because it is the easiest thing to do. So, Miss Scientist, present me some _evidence_ – not feelings or speculation – that disproves my cousin's hypothesis."

Elizabeth stared at him in consternation for quite some time, thinking furiously over every interaction, and finally had to admit defeat.

"I cannot offer you the evidence, Sir, but I still _believe _your cousin overstates the case."

The gentleman was starting to notice signs in the lady he had never paid attention to, and he speculated that her current demeanor indicated a restlessness for motion, so he stepped back beside her, offered his arm. She took it without qualms and practically pulled him along. He allowed her to set the pace for perhaps fifty or sixty paces, and finally broke the silence.

"Would you care to hear my cousin's description of _me?_"

Elizabeth looked perplexed, and said, "I thought I just did."

"No… that was what the mirror showed that _I should be thinking about myself_, not what my cousin thinks of me."

"I am all fascination, Sir. Before we diverge though, are you convinced of your cousin's assessment that I am a mirror?"

"I am. I have a few more examples, sufficient to completely convince me."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Perhaps I am one of those mirrors that distorts and magnifies certain aspects."

"If you would have it so."

"So, what did your cousin think _you _are, if I may ask?"

Darcy chuckled, and answered, "Well, there was a certain amount of brandy preceding his assessment, but in the end, he decided I am a _statue._"

"A statue!"

Elizabeth laughed a bit, and said, "Well, I can see his point, I suppose. What was his reasoning?"

"Well, he asserted I am a reasonably handsome man…"

Elizabeth completely surprised herself by saying, "Very handsome!", but then blushed and stared at the path while he chuckled and continued.

"He also said, I naturally prefer to spend my time up on my pedestal being admired, rather than mixing with mere mortals."

Elizabeth started to speak, but he beat her to it.

"Do not disagree, Miss Mirror, unless you can present some _evidence_."

She fumed for a moment, but finally admitted defeat with a shake of her head.

"He says that just like a statue, people stare at what I appear to be, not what I am. The statue appears to represent all that is noble and great and beautiful in the human experience, but underneath, it is just a rock."

Elizabeth said, "Well, a rock carved into a statue becomes something new… something beautiful, but the things they represent are frequently misrepresented. The Great General won the battle gets a statue, ignoring the case where he cost double the lives it should have cost, or the battle was not worth fighting in the first place, or the spoils were lost later a year or two later. There are statues for 'great men' in London, when their greatness was nothing but supporting slavery or some other injustice. Yes, I suppose statues try to show an image of something great, but I do not see how this applies to you."

"It applies perfectly well to me. Elizabeth, listen to this. When I slighted you at that assembly, I did not want to be there mixing with people _of no importance in the world_. That was literally what I was thinking. I saw no beauty, no grace, no fashion… need I continue?"

Elizabeth felt tears coming to her eyes, but her basic honesty forbade any different answer than nodding her head, which was all the response she was capable of.

Feeling her distress, the gentleman continued.

"Of course, he also may have mentioned that a statue that is not taken care of, revered, cleaned and so forth eventually ends up just a rock covered in bird dung."

That brought a most satisfying laugh from the lady, who was feeling much like a see saw."

She said, "Who would have thought – a mirror and a statue."


	27. State Changes

They walked on in silence for a time, thinking about mirrors and statues, and the man finally asked quite timidly, "Miss Bennet, you said that before yesterday, you entertained the idea that we might be _friends_."

"I did."

"And now?"

"And now… well, I do not know. Have you ever studied physics, Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes, at Cambridge."

"Well, they have a thing called a _state change_. Some state changes are reversable, and some are not. Heat water enough and it boils, but if you capture all the steam and cool it, you end up with the same water. Fire is not reversable. Burn some wood or coal and nothing can change it back."

"Yes, I agree. Some things can be both. A bell cannot be un-wrung, but if you wait a while, it will be back as it was. It may well have caused someone to act on the sound, but the bell itself will revert to its resting state."

"Yes, exactly! So, you see Sir, I… well… I mean…"

Feeling flustered, Elizabeth paused a moment, and listened to a bit of music in her head. It was one of Mary's dirges, which had a short passage that always soothed her when she was nervous.

The gentleman waited patiently, and she finally said.

"Well, Sir… I would not like to part in rancor, but beyond that… it is difficult to be friends after a day like yesterday. Perhaps it can be done… I do not know. I will be satisfied if we part without hard feelings, with the possibility of meeting some day in the future when some time has passed, the steam has condensed, and the bell is still again. I doubt we can ever be indifferent acquaintances again, but perhaps we could be… something different."

He smiled, and said, "I would like that."

"May I offer some unsolicited advice, Mr. Statue?"

"I would like nothing better, Miss Mirror."

"You previously asserted that I had… what was it… _'ten times your skill in social interaction'_."

"Yes, I said that. I stand by it."

Elizabeth sighed, and asked, "Is that as you think things _should _be?"

Chastened, the gentleman shook his head, and said, "I remember one night in Rosings you told me I needed to practice. I believe you to be absolutely correct. As the Colonel asserted, I never took the trouble."

"Well, let me go back to your original assertion. Obviously, you were speaking euphemistically, as I am not certain it is even possible to have a 10x difference in such a skill. You were using hyperbole to say I was _significantly _better, no?"

He nodded.

"_Why _do you _believe_ I have more skill, Sir?"

"Because it is an established fact! _I did not believe _you_ to be _superior _because I wished it; I believed it on impartial conviction, as truly as I wished it in reason. _In the letter I have in my pocket, which I shall burn for your protection when I return, I counted at least one to two dozen times when I acted in a manner any reasonable person would consider _badly_ towards you, culminating in yesterday's debacle. I counted even more than that by, let us say the 'ladies' of Netherfield that I listened to without acting. Yet in all that time, you have raised your voice precisely _once_ and said something remotely unkind precisely _never_. Is my counting in error?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Close enough, Sir."

"Well, then, I will stand by my opinion. You are my superior. I believe I will take your advice, and practice."

Elizabeth let a tiny wistful smile grace her face, and said, "Well, Mr. Statue…"

She paused for quite some time, and said, "I applaud your effort, Sir. Would you… could… well…"

He waited another moment, and she finally said, "Would you like to know something… well… Oh, I cannot believe I am saying this!"

She actually stomped her boot like a spoiled child, stared at the ground and came to a halt, causing Darcy to halt beside her.

He waited silently, while he saw a telltale twitching of her cheek that he believed meant she was thinking furiously. He was shamed that he had wanted to marry this woman yesterday, still wanted her hand today, and hoped, without any encouragement whatsoever, that he might one day be able to ask for it again – and yet, he knew so very little about her. He had only seen her angry or frightened once, and he had to admit it took a lot more to rattle her than it took to rattle him. He also had the nagging feeling that he had not actually even seen her _really _angry or frightened even once and wondered just how bad it might be.

Seeing her seemingly stuck, he said, "You may tell me anything you like without fear of censure or gossip, Elizabeth. I will not repeat it to a soul, not even my cousin or sister. I have no right to ask it and will not. It is your choice."

She snapped, "Of course it is my…"

Then she stopped talking mid-sentence, and he saw her close her eyes tightly while her hand moved as if she were counting something, and finally come to a decision. He recognized the expression from the previous evening, when she had pulled on three pairs of the softest gloves she owned, to crush his hopes with.

At length, she said, "I would like to tell you something important, Mr. Darcy… though I have no idea why."

"I am at your disposal."

Elizabeth sighed, and pulled him into motion once again.

"I will need to remind you of something I said to you once, Mr. Darcy."

Out of curiosity, he asked, "Do you remember _everything _we have ever said to each other?"

"Of course."

"Do you think that significant?"

"Not really. As you once asserted, I am very intelligent, I live in a mostly static and unvarying society, and it is really not all that hard to keep track of all slightly significant conversations. To tell the truth, I was just this morning trying to make a rough estimate of the total count of words that have passed between us, but I could not keep my mind on the problem long enough to get a good estimate."

"I relived them all last night at some length and multiple times, but I did not count them. I should think the answer to be in the few thousand range."

"Well, let me remind you of something I said from that awful dance in Netherfield. I believe I said something like, _'I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb.'_"

She paused, and asked shyly, "Do you remember that?"

He chuckled, and said, "Yes, I can remember the refrain as well with perfect clarity. _'This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure, How near it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say. You think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly.'_

"And what did you think?"

"Much to my chagrin, I suspected you were either teasing me or flirting with me, but… well, then you mentioned Wickham and my thinking became even less rational."

She asked with some perplexity, "What do you mean, 'even less rational'?"

"I imagine you cannot know, with all evidence supporting the theory that I am devoid of all proper feeling. Well, to be honest, you had been haunting my dreams for weeks. You know my _thinking _which I very ill‑advisedly told you yesterday, but my _feeling _has been much stronger and of longer duration than my one brief declaration would imply. I spent most of my time at Netherfield thinking about you."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "That makes what I need to say either easier or harder… I cannot decide which, and yes, I do realize they are opposites."

"I am sorry to add to your burden, Miss Bennet. I truly am."

"I know that. If I did not believe that, I would be sitting with Mary talking about babies…"

She gasped, and said, "Please forget I said that."

"Said what?"

"Very good, Sir!"

She paused, and said, "Let us go back to my 'tease' from the Netherfield ball that we were _each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition_. Your two possible explanations were both wildly in error."

"You were neither teasing nor flirting?"

"No, Sir! I was not."

"What exactly were you doing?"

"I was speaking the exact literal truth."

The gentleman abruptly stopped walking, which was expected, so Elizabeth stopped with him.

After a moment, he said, "That statement will require some explanation, Miss Bennet."

"I suspected as much. You see… well… let us return to your metaphorical 10x difference in social ability. I will take your assertion at face value for the moment. Let us just say my skill level is 10 times yours. If true, I can assure you that it is so because _I have practiced 100 times as much._"

Frustrated by the line of sight of her bonnet, Elizabeth looked around and noticed they were on one of her three usual paths, and they had reached a small glade that was very private. She took off her bonnet, and stood in front of the gentleman, confident they would not be discovered.

"You see, Sir. Here is what I have never told a soul, and very few know the truth except my family and closest friends. You see, Mr. Darcy, I was a horrid child."

He looked surprised, but just waited for her to continue.

"Lady Catherine likes to chastise my mother because we did not have a governess, but we had a very good housekeeper when we were small who acted the part. Her two children died before their sixth birthdays, and she quite doted on us. She almost certainly would have resented a governess."

"I see."

"When I was young, I was very personable and persuasive… and very very very very extremely monumentally stubborn. I could talk a calf out of his milk by just arguing with him until he finally gave in just to end the argument. It meant I got my way most of the time, but also that I alienated just about everyone. In cases where people dug their heels in, I went into frightening fits of temper that were completely overwhelming. My father would occasionally make me sleep in the loft above the horses just to get some peace and quiet. The usual remedies such as beatings, sending me to bed without supper, locking me away in a room to calm down were ineffective."

Darcy stared at her in wonder, and said, "I had no idea."

Elizabeth stared at the ground, and said, "Well, it gets worse. You see… you see…"

He saw a tear escape her eye and wanted with all his heart to brush it away but refrained.

"You see, Sir… there was, and perhaps still is, something _not quite right _in my head. I became nervous and fidgety, far more than is the usual if I could not be moving. Walking, running, climbing, swinging were not just diversions… they were essential. Sometimes I would wind up the rope on our swing as tight as I could and spend what seemed like hours just spinning one way and the other. It… well, it calmed me sometimes when nothing else would."

Quite gently he asked, "Calmed _what_, Miss Bennet?"

"Sometimes, my head felt like a crowded ballroom with dozens of people shouting for attention. I could scarce hear myself think amongst all the noise, and I would lash out just to silence them for a while. I know it sounds a bit mad, which is why I would never tell someone I could not trust, but… well… there it is."

"Your trust in me is not misplaced."

"Oh, I know that."

"So, what happened?"

The lady sighed in remembrance, and said, "Well, one day, I was 13 years, 8 months and 4 days old when I had some kind of screaming fit with Charlotte Lucas, the eldest daughter of Sir William."

"I remember her. I talked to her for a while one night at Lucas Lodge. A very sensible woman."

"Yes, well she was seven years my senior, but thought of me as some sort of project. She almost gave me up for lost that day, but she allowed me to calm down for a while."

"How long did it take you to calm down?"

"Two days."

He chuckled, and asked gently, "And?"

"She asked me if I wanted to die alone, unloved and un-mourned, or if I wanted to learn to be a lady, or at least act like one on occasion."

"And?"

"I thought for two more days, and sheepishly asked for help."

"What did she do?"

Elizabeth stared at the ground for a few moments, and finally replied.

"She had no idea, so we just started trying different things. Mary took up the pianoforte and it turned out that her music helped calm me, eventually to the point where just remembering it in my head would help. Charlotte lectured me on deportment, and then did what she called 'drills'. She had learned perfectly well how to get me angry… not that difficult of a feat at the time, so she would either wait until I reached the state naturally or goad me into it. Then she made me calm myself just barely enough to recite the rules of decorum. She would ask random questions or make me recite them backwards. I did not have to _act _decorously, but I had to prove that I at least knew what the rules were and still did under duress."

Darcy's mouth had been forming more and more into a ferocious frown, and he said, "That sounds… medieval."

"Yes, but somewhat effective. For two years, Charlotte and Mary worked with me. Jane tried to, but… well… it required a level of _toughness _that she just did not possess. She does have some backbone, but I never saw much evidence of it until after Netherfield."

Darcy looked chagrinned, and Elizabeth said, "None of that, Mr. Darcy. We are beyond that. Jane is happy. Things are as they should be."

She saw the look of sadness on his face, and added, "Well, some things are. Would you like to know what _finally _did the trick? Turned me into your favorite social mirror?"

"I am dying to know."

For the first time, Fitzwilliam Darcy saw a look of true wonder appear on her face, and for perhaps the hundredth time, he wondered what depths she might have that he may very well never see because of his own lunkheadedness.

"Mathematics. My father caught me in one of my moods when Mary and Charlotte were away, and either as punishment or just to shut me up, he made me sit in his bookroom and read a mathematical textbook for young boys for 2 hours. He bade me sit beside his desk, while he read his own book with a ruler in hand and said I would get a rap across the knuckles for every peep I made. I did manage to keep it down to seven."

Darcy chuckled, and said, "My father did something similar, but he would never pick anything as interesting as mathematics."

"My father had not the slightest idea I would find it interesting. He was more interested in silence than long term effectiveness", Elizabeth said with a frown, wondering if she should really have said that.

"At any rate, at the time, I apparently had trouble with units of measure. He assigned 2 hours and I spent 2 days… and then 2 weeks… and…. Well, for the first time, I had something powerful enough to slow down the churning in my mind. When things became just _too much_ and I could not spin on the swing, or run through the woods, or climb a tree, I could always come back to mathematics. Did you notice a pause yesterday before I spoke?"

"I did."

"I was doing mathematics. Fibonacci and prime numbers in that case. That is what allowed me to calm down enough to think. Then I briefly reviewed a few rules of deportment and was finally ready to speak."

Darcy sighed, and said, "If you had not had mathematics, then?"

"I would have scorched the Earth all around us. I am quite clever enough to think of the meanest, vilest, nastiest things to say. I would have said all your cousin threw at you last night and more. I might have claimed you were the last man in the world I could be prevailed on to marry, or I might have ridiculed you, or even said some of those things your cousin said about 'selfish disdain'. All of those and more would have been at my disposal to hurl with abandon."

He stared at the ground, and finally said, "Thank God for mathematics."

She chuckled, and said, "Or not. Without it, I am certain I would have been shipped off to India or Bedlam long before you met me and the whole thing might have been avoided."

"That would have been a crime against the world."

"Yes, well… now you know just how narrow your escape was, Mr. Darcy."

She said it with an impertinent tone, but he could see by the telltale bit of fidgeting she was doing, that the lady had actually said it quite nervously.

"Or perhaps, it just tells me how narrowly I missed my one and only chance to secure the best woman I have ever known."

Elizabeth snapped up to stare at him, and said, "That is not fair, Mr. Darcy."

"Do you want truth or fairness, Elizabeth? You cannot have both."

She paused, and said, "What is it _you _want, Mr. Darcy?"

"The exact same thing I wanted yesterday… and something completely different from what I wanted yesterday."

"Those are contradictory and mutually exclusive."

"A habit I acquired from my Mirror Lady."

She smiled nervously for a moment, and said, "I am afraid, Mr. Darcy, I… I… well…"

She paused, tongue tied for the moment, and Darcy thought he could see her doing some type of sums or formulas in her head.

"I cannot… I… well, I just cannot."

Darcy sighed, and said, "I know you cannot, but may I ask you a mathematical question?"

"Of course!"

He took a deep breath, and said, "If you imagine every possible future state between the two of us… with everything you can theorize from you being so angry as to burn Pemberley to the ground to a deliriously happily marriage, and everything between, then put all of these possibilities into probability buckets… can you see any chance that someday we might achieve happiness together? Is the total set of future possibilities where we are happy together a _null set_?"

To her credit, Elizabeth did not blurt out the first thought, or the fifth, or tenth of thirtieth. Instead, she closed her eyes, tried to envision all those possible states, and tried to see how she felt about each of them.

Finally, she said, "Mr. Darcy… It is not a _null set_, sir, but I must admit it seems at this point to be _sparse_."

"I will accept sparse."

"But I cannot. It has all the disadvantages of binding us both to some future state with none of the benefits of commitment."

"You said we might be friends. Is that not a good way to start?"

Elizabeth blew out a breath, and answered, "Heavens, No! It would… well, the _expectation _would _bias _the experiment."

"How so?"

"Suppose you asked for a courtship, or even just permission to call on me. At this point, both of our emotions are on a jagged edge due to our shared history. We would spend all our time tiptoeing around each other, waiting for something to fail. One of us would expose better or worse behavior than our true natures, and the other would spend all our time analyzing the change for meaning. All it would do is vex us, and if we did eventually make a go of it, I do not see how it could be a smart rational decision."

Feeling subdued, and frustrated, Darcy offered his arm and started them walking again. He felt he was so _close _to something but could not quite get over the last hurtle.

Then an epiphany struck him. It was so obvious in its simplicity, he wondered he had not seen it before. He was not grasping the answer because _he was not yet ready. He was in truth only slightly ahead of where he had been yesterday. _Yes, he had stared the mirror in the face, but he was like a man who had seen an ugly and scraggly beard in the mirror, accentuated with quite a bit of mud and grease. Seeing these did not make them go away. If he was not willing to apply soap and a razor, he would _never _be clean.

He finally said, "I understand what you are saying, Miss Bennet. I really do. I am not prepared to be the man that you _could _fall in love with, and you are not ready to be a woman foolish enough to do so."

"I would not put it that harshly, but yes, that is a reasonable approximation."

"May I make a suggestion."

"I am all ears, Sir."

"When I was in trouble as a lad, like most lads, I would try to lie or talk my way out of it. My father would from time to time say, _'Fitzwilliam, when you have dug yourself a hole, the first thing to do is stop digging. Then you can worry about getting yourself out.' _Does that make sense?"

"Of course."

"Well, here is what I propose. I will stop digging, and then I will see if I can find a rope or stick or something to get myself out."

"You seem overly enamored with sticks, Sir."

The jest sent both into a giggle that was slightly less uncomfortable than the previous ones had been.

He finally said, "Here is what I propose, Miss Bennet. I know I need to reform my character. I will never again be happy if I cannot stare at myself in the mirror with acceptance. That, I am afraid, I must do on my own, or at least with others. You cannot be responsible for that."

"I agree, but I am curious as to your reasoning."

He sighed, and said, "Let us suppose that we courted or married. I would rely on your already well‑developed social senses as a crutch. I would let you teach me, or just shield me from difficulties. Eventually, you would come to resent teaching me, or I would come to resent the need to be taught. Either way, I either would not learn, or you would be frustrated by the need to do my father's job."

She nodded in agreement, unable to really comment on the obviously correct explanation.

"Well, here is what I propose. Today is the fifteenth of April, exactly six months to the day from that unfortunate and fortunate night when we first laid eyes on each other."

"Yes, I suppose so."

"When do they have assemblies in Meryton?"

"Every month on the fifteenth."

Darcy sighed, and said, "Here is what I propose, Miss Mirror. Let us go our separate ways as friends, with a sparse set of possibilities of some unspecified _more_. You live your life and I will live mine. If you find someone who makes your heart sing, marry him and I will wish you all the joy in the world. If I happen to find the woman I can marry without apology, as you so aptly put it, then I will wed her and hope for the same acceptance."

"And you shall receive it, you have my word."

"I shall continue to work on my character. I cannot promise 100x practice, but I shall do my best."

"Nobody can ask more."

He stopped her, then once again stepped in front of her where they could see each other's eyes.

"Whether I am married or single, reformed or the same, better mannered or still a statue, I will appear at the Meryton Assembly in six months' time, on the fifteenth of October, exactly one year after our first meeting. Whether you are there or not, I will dance with ladies in want of partners. If you are there, I will say hello. If you wish to extend our association, in any way, simply tell me a mathematical formula that I can understand. I shall ask you to dance, and… well, what happens after that is anybody's guess."

Elizabeth stared at him for quite some time, _giving way to every variety of thought–re-considering events, determining probabilities, and reconciling herself, as well as she could, to a change so sudden and so important. _After what seemed to her a very long time, and which must have seemed to her statue like an eternity, she gave him the brightest and possibly first truly happy smile.

"I accept your terms, Mr. Statue, with one stipulation. Should we happen to encounter each other any time after, say midsummer, we are allowed to be friends again and talk of anything we wish."

Mr. Darcy sealed the bargain with a kiss on Elizabeth's knuckles, and she wondered just what in the world she had gotten herself into.

Completely on impulse, she jumped up on her tiptoes, very boldly kissed him on the cheek, and said, "I will see you in six months, my friend."

Then she blushed furiously, but unrepentantly, and skipped off down the path to rejoin her sister at the parsonage.


	28. Phaeton

_A/N: Hey Gang, glad you liked that little interaction. I wrote it as one 7k monster of a chapter and then broke it up into 3._

_This last conversation was a significant deviation from my original long-story plan. I had intended the later meeting to be entirely by chance, but the chance to give them an opportunity to talk somewhat honestly was too good to pass up._

_As several of you noted in the reviews, Elizabeth is what we would now call 'On the Spectrum', or Autistic Spectrum Disorder (ASD). Her particular flavor would probably be diagnosed as ADHD (__Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) or one of the other variants. __I was certain that some of you would either have such a condition or be closely related to someone with some of the signs, and that theory has been proven. __A couple of you have mentioned your life was and/or is a lot like hers. Reading, Music and Math have all been mentioned as the things to soothe the savage hordes (always loved that phrase), so it's realistic enough. I have taken some of the behaviors from the basket of people closely related to me and others from general reading and the web._

_The Spectrum is more common than you would think, and the term is a good one since just about everyone has some of the signs. A diagnosis is more a matter of degree than kind. I can tell you that at least some of the traits for ASD are quite common in the software world, as coding naturally attracts people with some of those characteristics. In fact, many of the 'bad' aspects of ASD behavior are generally considered features instead of bugs in my industry._

_In today's world, there is still significant stigma attached to these characteristics, and they do make people's lives harder, but things are not as bad as__ they used to be. There are much better ways to treat them today than Charlotte's BFSA approach (Brute Force Stumbling Around). Of course, when I was a kid they would have been diagnosed with 'Bratty Child Syndrome', and the treatment would have mostly involved willow switches or similar 'treatments', so things have improved considerably. Imagine that basket of behaviors in a Regency girl, and I would assume it was extremely difficult. _

_In the US, about 1 in 69 children are diagnosed with some form of ASD, with boys being 4 times as likely as girls. There are of course lots of undiagnosed cases, and then there is always the question of where you draw the line. There is lots of good content on the subject these days. I highly recommend the movie Temple Grandin_, which is a great story of a woman who overcame these problems_._

_Enough about that. I must admit that I only thought of that idea last Wednesday, let it percolate for a couple days, and wrote it on the weekend, but I was quite happy with the way it came out. I like for things to make sense, and I it fills in the backstory quite nicely._

_At this point, I have the last 2-3 chapters in my head, and let us call it 'X' between Point A and Point B. I have a few maybe minor plot points to explore, so we'll have 2-10 chapters between now and later. Several people have asked for reckonings with the coachman and/or the Bingleys, and I will just advise patience. It's all under control._

_This chapter is about double my usual, and a bit off the main storyline, so you can decide if it's an interesting side story, filler or step 1 of… well, I guess we'll all know in another 3,748 words. There is a purpose for ODC in the side stories._

_Wade_

* * *

"Miss Bennet, may I ask you an awfully impertinent question?"

"Of course! I am at your disposal."

"_What in the world_ have you done with my cousins?"

Elizabeth looked at her companion, sitting beside her on the seat of her phaeton, sighed, and said, "Well, Miss de Bourgh, basic logic would suggest that the use of the plural for of the word 'cousin' in your question means you have a hypothesis that I have 'done' something to 'more than one' of your cousins. Since I only know two, the set of possible targets for the question must include Mr. Darcy, and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Is my parsing of the question correct?"

Anne de Bourgh smiled at the ridiculousness of the answer and wondered if her friend was having it on with her, or simply clarifying. It was often difficult with Miss Bennet to tell if she was teasing, explaining or qualifying.

Elizabeth spent the same time looking at her companion, wondering just how much prying the lady intended to do, and how much actual information she was willing to divulge. She honestly found Anne de Bourgh to be fascinating, and was more than willing to indulge her where it was possible.

It was mid‑afternoon three days after Jane's betrothal announcement – and her second failed proposal – and her subsequent long and somewhat healing conversation with said vexing-vexing cousin. As per plan, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had called at the parsonage the day after she had scheduled a rendezvous in six months' time, and Elizabeth found the experience somewhat fantastical.

The Colonel looked and acted as he usually did, but she thought it might be a bit of a façade, because he seemed to feel some underlying tension that was not there previously. She thought she might offer him an apology but had no idea how to even begin the discussion, or what she would say, or what result she would hope to achieve. She eventually decided he was a full‑grown man and he could fend for himself. He should at least be cured of the worst of his gossipy tendencies.

On the other hand, Mr. Darcy was _substantially_ more open and amiable than previously, with her, with Mary and even with William. Elizabeth was still trying to sketch his character and could not decide how to interpret it. Was he being more amiable because he was trying to improve her opinion of him (courting behavior, perhaps), or because he was no longer so worried and he was just reverting to his normal demeanor, or the fact that he was no longer 'fighting' his attraction for her? The Colonel had opined earlier that he was 'lively enough' in other situations. Was the more amiable version the 'real' Mr. Darcy or was it the more taciturn – or was it something else entirely. Perhaps he was like a Chameleon and changed his color according to his circumstances. Whatever the explanation, the 'new' Mr. Darcy was much more palatable than the disagreeable 'old' one, but she still did not want to marry him.

With a start and a small shake of her head, Elizabeth recognized the telltale sign of what Charlotte called 'mind chatter' – that endless loop of thoughts that could cascade into a waterfall of thinking. Learning to control the chatter had been one of the hardest lessons learned during Charlotte's self‑imposed training regimen, though in the end, it was not Charlotte who came up with the solution, but Jennifer Long. One day, Elizabeth had described the problem, and Jennifer said, 'It sounds like you need to trim your sails'. That meant that the thoughts were circling like a ship in a storm, and Elizabeth had her sails fully open, riding the storm to her destruction, just like a badly managed ship. Jennifer asserted she must learn to trim her sails enough to calm her inner core down in the frightening seas, before she could open them and go back to riding her thoughts as was proper. Jennifer did not profess to any particular cleverness. She had received the wisdom from an uncle who was a sea-captain, who used the same technique to quiet his thoughts before a battle.

Elizabeth applied the technique to calm herself, so she could drag her attention back to her companion before she became even ruder. A quick daydream of a ship in a violent storm, with sailors running up the ropes to trim the sails whilst the Captain stood calmly on deck reciting the Fibonacci Sequence from 34 to 987 did the trick.

She smiled at her companion, and said, "I am sorry for the delay, Miss de Bourgh. My mind sometimes wanders, through no fault of my companions. I would be pleased if you called me Elizabeth."

Her companion sat up straighter and gave the biggest smile Elizabeth had ever seen from her. Elizabeth had to admit that Miss de Bourgh was quite pretty when she quit slouching, frowning, letting her companion coddle her and tolerating her mother's browbeating.

The young lady replied, "And I would be pleased if you called me Anne… or at least I would be if you were not avoiding my question."

The last was spoken with a shy, somewhat timid smile, as if the idea of teasing frightened the young lady – not an unlikely theory when you came right down to it.

Elizabeth returned the smile, and said, "I would be happy to call you by your given name; or at least to do so when I am not around your mother. As to the latter, I fear I must answer your question with another question."

Anne chuckled, and said, "Very well, although I will not absolutely promise not to reply to your question with yet another question."

Elizabeth returned her mirth, and said, "Ah, the infamous double‑negative… like multiplying two negative numbers to get to a positive, but you will not fool me. I wonder how we could ever get to the bottom of some issue if we keep answering questions with questions for some time. I imagine at some point we would have to eventually answer _some _of the questions. Perhaps we could write each question on a piece of parchment and put them in a stack. When we eventually answered one of the questions, you would remove it from the stack, and keep going, either adding or removing questions until the stack was empty."

"If you went along far enough though, the stack would either fall over or overflow the space you allocated for it."

"That seems ill advised. I suppose we should work out where we were before this diversion. I think I was going to ask you on what basis you think I 'did something' to your cousins."

Anne said, "Fitzwilliam Darcy was nice to me… and Richard Fitzwilliam followed suit."

Elizabeth just raised one eyebrow in confusion and waited. Perhaps she was afraid of overloading the question stack prematurely.

Anne continued, "Well, you see… Fitzwilliam and I were somewhat close as children. Around the time he went to Eaton and then to Cambridge, I became _extremely_ ill and never quite recovered. In the process, we lost our childhood connection. As soon as he came of age, my mother started telling this ridiculous story of planning our marriage in our cradles and has been hounding him ever since."

Curiously, Elizabeth said, "Well, such a plan is obviously not ideal for the sacrificial lambs, but that sort of thing is frequently done in high circles. Come to think of it, and even in my circles. I must sheepishly admit that my mother tried relentlessly to push me into an unwanted marriage. Can you tell me _why _you think it to be ridiculous?"

Anne said, "Come now, Miss Bennet. You are a master of logic and mathematics. Think!"

It only took a second for Elizabeth to laugh, which eased Anne's countenance, "**Aha**!... Unless your cousin was a particularly sickly child, I doubt he would be in his cradle at three years of age."

Anne nodded in satisfaction, and continued, "Yes, discussing our supposed union in our cradles was temporally impossible, and even if not, you would think Aunt Anne would have mentioned it to Fitzwilliam if there really was an agreement. That does not seem like the sort of agreement a mother would just forget to tell her child about."

"That would make sense."

"We discussed the possibility of actually following through with the mad plan, and we mutually decided that we would not suit. However, my mother is like a dog with a bone. She just will not let go of the idea. After a year or two, Fitzwilliam became genuinely concerned about the possibility of a compromise. He also noticed, much to his credit mind you, that my mother treated me worse when he vehemently denied the possibility on more than one occasion. Eventually, I asked him to just treat me with some distance and let her have her say so long as it did not affect him. He reluctantly agreed, and then his father died, and he took up care of his estate and his sister. He was barely keeping his head above water for several years, and over that time, we just fell into the habit."

Elizabeth sighed, took hold of her friend's arm, and said, "It seems like you chose the least‑bad solution you could come up with, though the whole idea fills me with sadness. It is not as if you are overloaded with family and friends at Rosings."

Realizing her tongue had once again ran ahead of both her good sense and her manners, Elizabeth amended, "I am sorry, that was unkind."

Anne looked at her and said, "No apology necessary. In fact, it is a good segue. May I ask something of you that may be _difficult_ to deliver, but I shall ask nonetheless – on the advice of my cousin Darcy, by the way."

Looking perplexed, Elizabeth said, "You may ask, and I will render an opinion about my willingness."

With a look of intense concentration, and what Elizabeth thought might be a touch of fear, her friend replied, "I ask that you, if at all possible – even if it is difficult, please _do not lie to me_, or even shade the truth. Whether your last remark was unkind of not, it was _true_. I am going to beg another favor of you soon, but it will require more than the usual level of honesty between people who have known each other such a short time. I know it is a lot to ask, but between us, I would like to suspend propriety and politeness."

Elizabeth looked carefully at her friend for quite some time, trying to judge if the offer was sincere, and possibly estimating the size and weight of the spring on the bear trap she suspected she was sticking her leg into – but at least her mind was concentrated on the here and now, which was more of an accomplishment than it might be for some.

At last, she said, "Very well, I shall agree when we are in private. I will be polite and noncommittal when in the presence of your family."

Anne let out a big sigh, and said, "Thank you. I truly appreciate it. Nobody talks honestly to me."

Elizabeth said, "Is that their fault?"

"No, not really. They do not offer it, I do not ask for it, and my environment does not encourage it."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "Well, I have quite lost track of where we were on our question stack."

"You were going to tell me what you did to my cousins."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "You ask a lot, Anne."

"Too much?"

Elizabeth thought about it for some time. Anne was driving the phaeton, and they had a groom riding in back who was deaf as a post, so they had no concerns for privacy. The pony was the most docile creature Elizabeth had ever laid eyes on. Without active encouragement he was walking at a pace Elizabeth could easily best by jumping to the ground and walking, so she had time to think.

"No, not too much, but to truly answer your question, I would have to extend you a level of trust currently reserved for Mary, my eldest sister, Jane, and my best friend Charlotte Lucas. I will think on it for a moment."

Elizabeth noticed that Anne seemed perfectly willing to wait all day for her answer, and rather than thinking about whether to trust her or not, she got diverted to wondering at the source of the patience. The answer became obvious with only a tiny amount of directed reflection. Rosings was not a _spirited _environment, so patience must be not only a virtue, but a survival skill.

Anne said, "If it helps you, Elizabeth, I will withdraw the question… but before I do, I should mention that I plan to trust you with something I trust to _nobody_. Not a single person has seen what I wish to show you."

Eventually, curiosity got the better of her, and Elizabeth said, "All right, I will answer, Anne."

She took a deep breath, and said, "Well, both of your cousins have advanced the theory that I am a _mirror. _This means that I say and do things that force people to look at themselves in ways they are not accustomed to. In the Colonel's case, he relayed some rather nasty gossip to me, and I quite subtly made it known that he was in the wrong."

Anne laughed, and said, "Well, that part is not all that surprising. I always suspected his big mouth would get him into trouble sooner or later."

"Well, he is not in trouble per se. I did not especially think much of him, good or bad before, and I am left still not thinking much of him. I believe whatever angst he is feeling is over his own self‑image, which I suspect is not as bright and shiny as he would like it to be, or that he thought it was before our conversation."

Anne just chuckled, and said with a big smile, "Well, I am happy that someone finally took him down a peg or two. It was long overdue."

"Long overdue perhaps, but _not my task. _I could be vexed, but I am not particularly put out by it."

Anne sighed, and stopped the horse entirely, which by that point had virtually no effect on their forward progress. The aging groom jumped off the back and went up to hold the bridle. Elizabeth could not tell if he was being diligent, worried about the horse's mental state, or if he was just tired of riding on the back of the phaeton at a snail's pace.

Anne looked at Elizabeth carefully, and said, "I am fascinated with this concept of the _mirror_, Elizabeth, and I am hoping it to be true; which brings me to my other cousin. On Thursday, Darcy came back from a long absence looking like his favorite dog went crazy, snatched his second favorite by the neck and jumped off a cliff, dragging his favorite horse along."

Elizabeth giggled at the expression. It had to be the most awkward analogy of all time, but she appreciated that Anne was trying to learn to tease and was at least making some progress.

Anne continued, "However, on Friday, afternoon, he disappeared once again for some time, and came back a _changed man_. He was not _happy _per se, or even content, but _something_ was significantly different. He seemed more reflective, more concerned with the world around him… more…"

She paused a few moments, and said, "… more concerned with _me specifically. _I do not mean he has generated some new feelings of affection, but it was as if the cobwebs had been cleared from in front of his eyes, and he very belatedly realized that between the two of us, we had let my mother destroy what should be a close friendship."

Elizabeth looked at her thoughtfully, and Anne continued, "So, what did the mirror tell him?"

Feeling precariously situated, Elizabeth said, "Well, the mirror told him that he is basically a good man that spends an awful lot of his energy pretending to be a bad man, to the point where the goodness is well hidden – nay, invisible."

Anne scrunched her face in confusion for a moment, then her brow cleared, and said, "Ahhh…. You have been subjected to the famous Darcy Scowl, and his reticence in company… or possibly his vastly overly inflated pride… or maybe his reliance on his more amiable friends to help him get by in society when he is too lazy to learn to fend for himself?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, some flavor of all of them."

"That explains his scowls on Thursday. How do you account for his vastly improved demeanor on Friday?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, that I cannot vouch for with precision, but I suppose I can shine some light on it. I did on Friday very slightly improve his chances of getting something he desired, but only by the slimmest of margins."

Anne asked, "Well, he told me you were an aficionado of mathematics, and in fact, he suggested I ask of you the favor I will get to presently. For the moment, let us examine it numerically. Just how slim was this 'improvement' in his chances of success."

"It improved from no chance at all to a very slim chance, perhaps 1 in 100."

Anne laughed, and said, "And you consider that a small change."

"Yes… if you take that number metaphorically, the delta is but 1%."

Anne smiled, and said, "Well, since I will be asking for your expertise soon, let me give you _mine_ on a subject of which I have some expertise. You make a common error in underestimating the change. _Hope is not linear._ It is sort of like division by zero, which produces either infinity or an error, depending on who you ask. You see, Elizabeth, there is as much change from 'no hope at all' to '1 in 100' as there would be from '1 in a million' to '1 in 2'. There is a vast difference between 'no hope at all' and 'some hope'. If he has _some_ hope, then everything else changes. I am now unsurprised by the change, and I need not even know what it is he is hoping for."

Elizabeth thought about the lady's assertion, wondering if she would find out exactly _why _Anne thought she was such an expert on hope.

Finally, she nodded, and said, "Well, I will assert that you understand it more than I do; and whilst I do not have the experience to comment on it, your thesis makes perfect sense. It would also adequately explain some other things I observed after that time in our two test subjects, so I will provisionally accept your thesis."

Anne smiled once again at the praise, but then it turned into a frown.

"Well then, Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam suggested a course of action. I would like to ask of you a big favor, which he suggested."

Curious, Elizabeth asked, "What would that be? I can neither agree nor deny until I know what is being asked."

Anne reached behind the seat, hefted a small valise up, and handed it to Elizabeth.

"Darcy suggested that I ask you to analyze those mathematically. He thinks it will yield significant insights."

Elizabeth asked curiously, "What are they?"

"My diaries."

With a ferocious frown, Elizabeth said, "I would not…"

Not to be outdone, Anne spoke over her, "Do not be concerned with privacy. I have been sick enough for long enough I long ago abandoned any such silly ideas, although as I said before, these are my most private thoughts, _never_ before shared with _anyone_. I would like you to examine them and tell me what you learn."

Elizabeth stared at the valise, and said, "You know there is a better than even chance you already _know _perfectly well what they contain and are just afraid to face it."

Anne blushed, and said, "Perhaps I know, but I fear I lack the… confidence to believe it. I need… well… Darcy said I need someone looking from outside the box."

Elizabeth snorted, and said, "Well, his chances just went back to nil. I will…"

Anne looked panicked, and said, "No, please, Elizabeth! I beg you, do not take it out on him. He suggested this for my benefit."

Elizabeth stared at her, with her mind chatter starting to take hold with thoughts of strangling the vexing‑vexing man. She finally trimmed her sails, and said, "It sounds like Mr. Darcy is just being lazy."

Anne, who had been feeling a bit panicky, said, "I asserted the same thing, quite vehemently. After that, I advocated for the alternate theories that he was afraid, timid, shy, ungentlemanly or just a lunkhead."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "And how did the lunkhead respond?"

Most annoyingly. He said, "_Anne, this is important!_ Why would you trust an apprentice when the master is readily available?"

Elizabeth stared at her and said, "He thinks I am the master."

Anne said, "He thought you might say that. He suggested I ask you to complete the phrase '_Mistress of …'_"

Elizabeth snorted, but finally relented and said, "_Awkward Conversations._ That seems to be my fate in life. I seem to spend most of my time dealing with awkward situations."

"Will you look at my diaries… _please_?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "All right. I am here two more days before returning home. If you can get this nag back to the parsonage, I will do as you ask, but do not be surprised if you do not like what you see in the mirror, or if you find it to be exactly what you expected and you have put me through a spot of bother for nothing."

Anne's face lit up like a sunrise, which confused Elizabeth since she seriously doubted that she was going to make any real change to the lady's life. However, she had agreed, and did not actually have anything to do for the next two days anyway.

Anne got the groom's attention, he rejoined the phaeton, and a quarter hour later, Elizabeth was sitting in her room looking at the first diary, wondering just what in the world she had gotten herself into.


	29. Diary

_My name is Anne de Bourgh, and I am fifteen years old today. I decided to start writing my thoughts down because after the past month, it seems quite likely I will not be able to write the same sentence boasting of reaching sixteen years. I have been terribly ill this past two months. The doctors, apothecaries, physicians and various other 'learned men' who have attended me speak to my mother in hushed tones, believing I either do not hear or do not understand. They mostly believe my remaining time to be of short duration, and after the past two months, I believe them._

_I cannot call this a diary, because if things go on as they have recently, I will only be able to write sporadically, if at all, as many days I can do nothing more difficult than listening to a servant reading to me. The only consolation in this sad little life might be that I have managed to enjoy quite a lot of the world's greatest literature (much of which my mother would no doubt disapprove of)._

_In the past month, I have had three days where I was absolutely convinced that I would not see the next sunrise. The pain was nigh on unbearable, and most of the remedies either did not work, or more often, made things even worse. Laudanum has been used generously, but it seems to cause more problems than it solves. It leaves me with terrifying nightmares and seems to exacerbate my cough to no end. Bleeding and various foul-tasting concoctions have been tried with little success, and to be honest, little in the way of demonstrable skill or knowledge in my physicians to give me confidence. They seem to mostly be trying different things randomly, betting my life with each roll of the dice. Combined with the very grave looks on my caregivers, I had three specific days, far worse than most where I thought I would not live to see the morrow. _

_I believe, for my own sanity, I will make a mark for each time I am absolutely certain I might die. I will use the Greek symbol for Infinity, as that seems to indicate both the depth of my pain, and my expectation to quite soon be merged with the infinite. Thrice this month: ∞∞∞_

_Perhaps, as I go on, I will identify other symbols that might be useful, but for the moment, my hand is cramping, and I must hide this journal before my maid returns._

* * *

Elizabeth felt tears streaming down her face as she read the first few pages of the journal and was absolutely horrified at the level of pain and despair. She also found herself inspired by the flashes of subtle humor that shone through even that first introductory page. Anne had managed to learn to hide herself from the world; and based on her interactions over the past several weeks, perhaps she had learned to hide herself from herself as well.

The journal was written using a pencil. It was an unusual choice for a journal which were usually written in ink for longevity, but the instrument made sense for someone who was mostly an invalid. She imagined trying to manage quills and inkwells, and in the end, wondered why anyone bothered with ink at all. The pencil was easy enough to read, and it would last long enough.

Elizabeth diverted her mind from the horror of what she was reading by thinking about the mechanics of the operation. Had her young friend had an assistant to sharpen the pencils, as a penknife and an invalid did not seem like they would get along well. She wondered if she had to hide her writing, and if so, what was the excuse for the pencils and journal books. She wondered if the lady wrote other things to fool her guardians.

Most of all, she wondered how someone lived with that despair day in and day out without going mad. She continued on for quite a number of months that contained descriptions of everything from the deepest despair, to the heights of what might pass for happiness.

* * *

_Fitzwilliam came to visit today, and Mother and I made every possible effort to hide our conditions (my sickliness and her obsessiveness), though for vastly different reasons. It has been more than a month since I felt an impending discussion with St. Peter, and I actually feel fairly good now._

_My cousin has been of age for a year, and Mother thinks she will somehow browbeat him into marrying me, so she does everything she can do to hide my condition. I believe she would have more luck browbeating the tides than Fitzwilliam Darcy, but there is little point wasting what little strength I have in arguing with her. My mother is not one to be dislodged from her chosen course by logic, practicality or common sense – or any kind of sense for that matter._

_I hide the true state my illness from him because I would like to have one person in the world who does not pity me. He has no idea just how ill I am, and I would keep it that way, although sometimes it takes extraordinary measures to keep it hidden, and I imagine it will become more difficult over time. I suppose the same should apply to my other cousin Richard as well. The two of them are to visit at Easter just as they always have done, and I will endeavor to show them that I am 'ill' but not 'that ill'. I will no doubt sooner or later have to convince them I am not ill, but just disagreeable. _

_It will be difficult, but I have endured worse.  
_

* * *

Elizabeth wondered if the young Anne was at that point being selfish or foolish keeping her health a secret from two cousins who would no doubt have been happy to help her; but it was obviously not for Elizabeth Bennet to decide such things. The girl was quite young at the time, somewhere around Kitty's current age, and Elizabeth could not imagine either of those two even having to contemplate such a decision, let alone make it thoughtfully. For her own part, her sixteen or seventeen-year-old self would not have been able to boast of any great fount of wisdom either, so she could not criticize in the least… but she could feel sympathy for the girl that was.

The ever present ∞ signs showed that the young lady at least believed herself to be at death's door at least once a month, and frequently twice. As Elizabeth continued through the months and years, she even saw one awful month with six of them.

Whether Anne was _truly _at that much risk, or if she just _believed _she was meant little. Believing it was bad enough, and in fact, Elizabeth thought that believing it might actually be worse than being close in truth.

* * *

_Mother continues her campaign against Fitzwilliam to get him to marry me, and he continues to resist mightily. I must confess, it is one of my few amusements, aside from my reading. During his last visit, he forcefully denied the entire arrangement, and pointed out to Mother that if Aunt Anne had made such an arrangement, she most certainly would have told him. The poor man was livid, and it was heartbreaking watching him try to maintain his polite demeanor when he clearly wanted to tear Mother's hair out. That would obviously be ungentlemanly, so he demurred… much to my disappointment. Aside from my own self, I believe he may be the tightest wound individual I have ever met (not that I have met all that many people). _

_I believe I will ambush him tomorrow and speak to him candidly. I do enjoy his company, but not enough to endure what happens when he declares his lack of intentions so forcefully. I will suggest we become much more distant, since we cannot really have any true intimacy like we had as children anyway, and the little bit of good company I am likely to get from him is not worth the bother. Aside from that, there is the very real possibility my mother will attempt a compromise, which would be… bad._

_I will miss his company, and hope he manages to marry soon to end the entire debacle. He is the man most in need of a good wife of everyone I have ever known. He is a very good man at heart, but something is not quite right in his head. He offends nearly everywhere he goes and has no idea why. His father filled his head with pride, his school filled his head with nonsense, and the poor man has no idea how to get past it. I can only hope he chooses wisely. The right wife could fix everything that is wrong with him, and the wrong wife would be a complete misery for both of them. I have to say that in some ways, I pity the poor creature. For a certain, she will be rich as Croesus, but so am I and what has that bought me? For her riches, she will basically have to act as governess for both her children and her husband. _

_See there, apparently matchmaking for Darcy men runs in the blood. I would like to see him settled. Of course, with the way he behaves in public, I can well imagine he will find the perfect woman and frighten her off with his appalling manners._

* * *

Elizabeth was quite surprised to such a clear analysis from such a young girl, and once again impressed with the humor. She tried very hard to not read too much into what the young lady said about Mr. Darcy, but she was beginning to believe there was more than one game being played. This entire exercise might well have been engineered by Anne just to have her innocently read her comments about the vexing‑vexing man that were sprinkled throughout the journals. The fact that Anne predicted their first encounter at the Meryton Assembly eight years in advance was either curious or ominous.

By that point in the diaries, Elizabeth had ascertained that the young lady went in and out of illness in waves. The troughs were very low indeed, while in the peaks, she was below average in health but not so terrible.

Anne had never learned the 'accomplishments' due young ladies because she just _did not want to._ It was as simple as that. Lady Catherine thought she was too ill to learn, but anybody who could write page after page in a journal could learn to draw or paint or play the pianoforte. No, Anne de Bourgh had not learnt by her own design. Whether out of laziness or disdain for the expectations, she put no effort whatsoever into it, and her mother did not press. Lady Catherine did not force her to learn because she thought any lady with her pedigree would not need such mundane things as accomplishments.

Elizabeth thought that Lady Catherine might, in normal circumstances, have a point. She had obviously attracted a very good marriage herself without those accomplishments, and probably ascribed all her own virtues to her daughter. Unfortunately, that analysis seemed to Elizabeth to be missing an important point. Lady Catherine was Lady Catherine Fitzwilliam, _daughter of the Earl of Matlock._ Her daughter was plain old Miss Anne de Bourgh, yet another heiress with no living father or brothers at all. It was a very different situation, and Anne could have used all the help she could get.

By Elizabeth's calculations, Anne was now on the high side of 23, so this had been going on for nearly a decade, which was far longer than Elizabeth herself had spent seriously working on the wifely skills.

Elizabeth thought about that for a while, and it was at that point in the story that she got out pencil and paper (the pencil seemed appropriate) and started making notes. She would of course have to reread the diary from the beginning; but she now had a plan of attack, and it was time to start being more rigorous.

* * *

"Lizzy, come away from whatever insanity has gripped you this last day and have some tea. This is almost your last day here, and you are entirely wasting it on whatever project you seem to have acquired."

Elizabeth looked up at her sister, laughed and said, "Yes, that is much more intimidating, Mary. Perhaps you will manage to be a stern mother after all. See if you can put a little more… well… fire into that frown."

Mary just swatted her on the head, then grabbed her hand to drag her over to the table for tea.

"So, what has you so bothered on your last two days with your dearest sister?"

Elizabeth smiled, and did not contradict Mary. Jane might well have been considered her dearest sister at one time, but Mary had quietly supplanted her by a slim margin. She would of course never mention that fact to either of them, but fact it was."

She sighed, and said, "I am engaged because I am a weak and timid creature."

"How so?"

"I cannot seem to say 'no'."

Mary took a sip and said, "I suppose those are something to do with Anne?"

"Yes… she asked me to… well…"

Mary touched the back of her hand and said, "I know it was probably in confidence, Lizzy. I will not pry. I just ask if you will be done before Uncle Gardiner's man arrives to take you home?"

"I am done now, I believe. I will wish to spend the day with you tomorrow. I will need to have a conference with Lady Catherine and Anne, but I wish to defer it until the very last minute. I will send a note tomorrow to arrange things as I must."

"Being squeamish, are we now?"

Lizzy smiled a soft, lazy smirk, and said, "No, being strategic."


	30. Multiple Reflections

_A/N: Hey Gang, sorry about that Evil Cliffy, and thanks for all the notes asking if I'm OK (or panicking about the apparent abandonment). All is well, I've just been very busy. We just moved into a new house, must prepare the old one for sale, have had some illness in the family, and I've been reading obsessively about COVID-19 (Coronavirus) and trying to understand all I can about it. I can only say that it is __serious__ \- deadly serious. There is lots of good information out there, and lots of very-very-very bad information and outright lies, so beware. If you're not taking it seriously, then I suggest you start doing so immediately. _

_That said, let's see what our ADHD mathematician has to say._

_Wade_

* * *

_"Lizzy, what in the world are you on about, asking to see both Mother and me? Are you insane?"_

Elizabeth tried her best not to grin at the success of her prognostication. She had predicted that with the one-day delay in her response, and the fact that she had only sent a note over that morning would cause Anne to intercept her within 20 steps into Rosings. The encounter happened between 17 and 18, so kudos to her. She saw that Anne was agitated and decided that might be good – or it could just as well be bad. It was hard to tell. Elizabeth thought perhaps she should stop mentally preening and chattering, so she could answer her friend though.

"Those are two separate questions, Anne. Which should I answer first?"

While Anne looked a bit flummoxed, Elizabeth noted that she had gone from 'Elizabeth' to 'Lizzy' over the course of the missing day and thought that was definitely a good thing… maybe… probably.

Anne calmed down a bit, signaled the footman to leave them, and waited for him to move out of hearing. Then she said, "Let us start with the first, as the answer may shed light on the second. I thought you would read my journals and talk to me about it… not my mother. What sort of mirror are you?"

Elizabeth smiled, not particularly flustered by Anne's discomposure. She actually wanted her just a bit nervous. In fact, she wanted her to exhibit _anything _other than the complacency she had seen for most of the previous month. To be honest, a Lydia style screaming fit (well, at least the old Lydia) would not be entirely out of place.

"We are up to three questions on the stack, Anne. Let me add a fourth. Let us suppose that you wanted me to fix your hair some particular way, but there was some dispute about the style. Or perhaps, we both wanted to attend a ball together, and wanted to be certain our gowns and hairstyles matched each other to produce a specific desired effect. How would we resolve it so we could both be certain we are discussing the same thing in the same manner?"

Anne looked a bit confused, and said, "Well, I suppose we would both have to look in the same mirror, so we were seeing the same thing."

"Correct! The stack is safe from falling over for the moment. Now, how about this… does a mirror show truth?"

"Of course."

"Are you certain?"

Unaccustomed to being forced to either think of defend her thoughts, Anne thought for a moment, and finally said, "Well, I suppose they are not perfect."

"No, they are not. They are an approximation _at best_, and they can be deceptive. Every mirror swaps right for left when looking at yourself. Try it sometime. Put a hair clip on the right side of your head, look in the mirror, and you will find it mysteriously on the left, or try reading the title of a book in a mirror. In addition to that, I have seen mirrors that make things look bigger, smaller, fatter, thinner or other things in between. Make one with colored glass and I might conclude you are a mermaid. Every mirror distorts, so at best you get something approximating reality. That is the nature of mirrors. "

Anne sighed, and said, "I think my cousin's analogy is starting to break down."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Perhaps, but let us return to my earlier hypothetical about two ladies wanting to attend a ball together and ensure that they made the correct impression as a pair. You said they both must look in the same mirror at the same time."

"Yes, otherwise they will be comparing different perspectives."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, Anne, _you and your mother need to go to the metaphorical ball together_."

Anne stared at her friend for a minute, and finally said, "You do not really know my mother, Lizzy. This could end badly."

Elizabeth said, "If you are afraid and wish to abandon the enterprise, Anne, it is your right. My uncle's carriage arrived to fetch me back to London and thence to Longbourn an hour ago. He will retrieve me at the front door in…", then she looked at her pendant watch, "exactly 93 minutes. If you wish, you may take your journals back, and we will simply have tea with your mother, then I will be on my way."

"I would rather you just tell me what you saw."

Elizabeth stood up a bit straighter, and said, "I can be easy, or I can be effective, Anne. They are mutually exclusive, so you must choose. I dislike being difficult, but I fear it is all or nothing."

Anne stared at her a moment with what she thought was a ferociously intimidating stare like her mothers, while Elizabeth waited patiently for the minor bout of easily ignored petulance to resolve.

After some time, Anne said, "Fine, I believe you have answered the last remaining question. You are quite mad. Let us go… Mother will be waiting."

* * *

Elizabeth's entry into the parlor was made as usual, with Anne following slightly to her right, but somewhat hiding behind her. Elizabeth did not mind. She asked the footman to place the two valises near the sofa, thanked him kindly and approached what she always thought of as 'the throne'.

"Lady Catherine, thank you for seeing me."

The grand lady looked at her carefully, and said, "Well, I can hardly resist. Your note was quite mysterious, Miss Bennet. Anne, after considerable prodding, mentioned something about a 'mirror'. I can hardly make any sense of it."

Elizabeth said, "Well, Lady Catherine, before we begin may I stipulate that I am acting on my own, out of a _duty_ demanded by a request from a dear friend. I hope I will not offend you, but just in case I do, I apologize in advance and ask you not to take it out on anybody else."

The lady looked at her carefully, and said, "What do you take me for, Miss Bennet?"

Speaking carefully, Elizabeth said, "To be honest, Lady Catherine, I take you for a formidable woman. I must confess to admiring you, though for different reasons than the usual."

Intrigued, the lady asked, "How so, Miss Bennet?", but then paused and said, _"_before we begin, let me tell you that _my character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. _I would ask the same of you. Please speak freely. You need not fear for your relatives and friends. If you peeve me, I will let you know directly, and you need not fear I will fail to convey my sentiments. I fear subtlety is not among my more developed talents."

Elizabeth laughed at the rejoinder, and said, "As I would expect Lady Catherine. It would take a real simpleton to think otherwise, but, like you, I have always found it best to be explicit."

Lady Catherine looked at her critically, and said, "Well, Miss Bennet. You have me full of curiosity. What is it you plan to shed light on?"

"It is a rather _private _matter, Lady Catherine. I have been asked to offer some guidance based on my facility with mathematics – or more likely, a combination of mathematics and social analysis."

The lady harrumphed a bit, which was not particularly ladylike, but Elizabeth enjoyed it anyway, before saying, "Mathematics is more the province of men, is it not, Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth softly smiled, and said, "You surprise me, Lady Catherine. I would have expected you to be _the last person in the world_ to fall back on such a weak argument."

Somewhat startled, the lady asked, "Why?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Look around you, Lady Catherine. I believe the length of time since your husband's death would be best measured in decades rather than years. Your nephews visit for a fortnight a year, which is about 4% of the time. The rest of the year, you seem to be engaging in so‑called 'men's work' daily. Now, any simpleton with access to the paths around Rosings can ascertain that your tenants are using modern farming methods. The difference in planting from farm to farm indicates that the rotation if crops is planned. The condition of your tenant cottages seems better than average. You serve a fabulous table, which frankly seems to be just a convenient excuse to hire more footmen and maids, thus sharing your wealth broadly without overly relying on charity. You of all people should know that women are quite capable of operating in the men's province, so yes… I did not expect that from you."

Quite to Elizabeth's surprise, Lady Catherine laughed heartily, and said, "Well, you do have the cheek of the devil, Miss Bennet. You managed all of that without the slightest bit of fawning."

Elizabeth leaned forward angrily, and said, "I do not appreciate the assertion that I might do such a thing, Lady Catherine. I simply pointed out things as factually as I could. Had you been a poor mistress, I would make the assertion with the same clarity, for I fear I am not that well versed in either subtlety or prevarication."

"Peace, Peace, Miss Bennet", Lady Catherine laughed. "You have very well proven your credentials. I would listen to what you have to say but let us set up the proper tableau for the discussion."

With that, Lady Catherine raised her voice slightly so the footman who had moved out of earshot could hear, and said, "James, might you take the mysterious Miss Bennet's two valises to the yellow parlor, and have tea delivered."

Anne curiously said, "Why the yellow parlor, Mama. We have not been there for years."

"We have not had the situation calling for it for some years, Anne, but it seems appropriate for this moment."

"I suppose so."

Elizabeth was curious about what magical properties this yellow parlor had. She had never seen anything remotely like it in Rosings, but the house was so large, it could have contained a folly or cricket field that she was unaware of. She decided there was no need to ask, since she would see what was up directly.

* * *

The yellow parlor turned out to be the smallest room she had seen at Rosings. Mrs. Bennet had a room of about the same size that she used as a closet. It barely had room for one very small round table with only 3 chairs, and another four or five feet of space around it. There was a tea trolley in the corner, but otherwise it was the plainest room Elizabeth had seen in some time.

Lady Catherine walked in, and said, "Please choose your chair, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth looked around and said, "I suppose I must choose randomly. There seems nothing to distinguish one from anther."

Lady Catherine chuckled, and said, "Exactly! That was my purpose. My husband called this the 'Arthurian Parlor' with the references to the Round Table of the legends being obvious. He came in here when he wanted a meeting of equals."

Elizabeth said, "I can see why you do not get very much use of it, Lady Catherine. I cannot imagine you having a lot of equals to deal with."

The lady sighed, and said, "No, Miss Bennet, I do not. I would hope for your sake, that you do not have to claw your way through a man's world. As you well know, women are quite capable, but everything we do, we must do twice as good as a man just to get any credit at all. It is exhausting."

Curious, Elizabeth asked, "So why did you not take another husband, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

Lady Catherine sighed, and said, "Quite frankly, I take the responsibility for the estate seriously, and I never liked any man well enough to hand it over. Men have all the power in a marriage, so if a woman like myself marries, I go from a position of absolute power over my fate, to a position of being the legal property of a man. I never met a man I was willing to trust that much."

Carefully, Elizabeth asked, "Do you believe such men do not exist?"

Lady Catherine quite surprised her by taking her hand, and said, "Do not take the musings of a cynical old woman to heart, Miss Bennet. Good men do exist, and given more effort, I might have found one.

Curiously, Elizabeth asked, "Do you regret that?"

Pensively, Lady Catherine said, "Sometimes, but not often. Now, let us sit and see what you have to say, young lady."

The three ladies sat down on three random chairs, equally spaced around the small table. The footman put Elizabeth's two valises beside her table, and Lady Catherine surprised her by dismissing the servants and pouring the tea herself.

They let the tea sit a few minutes, enjoyed a few excellent biscuits, then Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I suppose I must get on with it."

"Please", said Anne who had said practically nothing during the encounter so far.


	31. Quality of Life

Opening one valise, Elizabeth removed the stack of journals, and a sheaf of parchments with her notes. Anne looked startled to see the notebooks, but Elizabeth just stared at her, until Anne finally acquiesced with a nod of her head for Elizabeth to proceed. Elizabeth thought that was the moment of truth, where Anne had to make a hard decision. Absent that decision, Elizabeth thought she would have been wasting her time, but with permission granted, there was some possibility of progress.

With a deep breath, Elizabeth began, "Lady Catherine… Anne… Please keep in mind that Anne asked me to intervene. I feel honor bound to do my best, which requires that I speak clearly and frankly. May I proceed?"

Both ladies nodded, not feeling any need to add anything.

"These are Anne's secret journals. I have no idea if they are actually secret or not, but Anne presented them to me as such and asked me to analyze them mathematically."

Not as shocked as Elizabeth expected, Lady Catherine asked, "Why you, Miss Bennet? Why mathematically?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Let us just say that I have some talent in dealing with other people's… err… difficulties. I use mathematics as a handle to pry into things that should not be my business, so I may attempt to extract some approximation of truth. The 'why me' is because I have a history of successful interventions, although whether that is luck or skill is anybody's guess at this point."

Lady Catherine looked at her carefully, and said, "It sounds like you have been in some awkward conversations, Miss Bennet."

Surprised at how quickly the lady arrived at that conclusion, Elizabeth just nodded.

"And this is yet one more such? I take it you do not particularly _enjoy _these activities. Or at least I would surmise that by your demeanor."

"No, my lady… I do not enjoy it. I am however honor bound to help as I am asked, whether it is a good idea or not."

Lady Catherine nodded, and said, "Well, duty is not always enjoyable, so I applaud your intentions. Now, might you answer the first question?"

"You mean 'why mathematics'?"

"Yes"

"Well…", and Elizabeth paused for some little while, and said, "…because it is my particular skill, and in many cases, the clarity of the mathematical expressions helps me think. You probably know that mathematics itself is nearly infinitely precise, but its _application _is all over the map. You can determine with perfect clarity whether an apple is larger or denser than a pear, and given enough information about the markets, you might be able to determine their relative values with some precision. You cannot however tell if one person prefers one over the other; but given enough information you could tell the preferences for the average Englishman or Irishman. The application is something I can do well enough to suit my purposes. The tools of mathematics help bring clarity, though the clarity could just as well be wrong as right."

Lady Catherine nodded, and said, "Well, carry on, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth opened the first journal, and said, "This journal begins on Anne's fifteenth birthday, when she was absolutely certain she was unlikely to survive another month, let alone another year."

Lady Catherine gasped, and looked at Anne who was decidedly staring at her hands, then asked, "Is this true, Anne?"

Startled, Anne snapped back at her mother, "Yes, it is… and you cannot deny that you thought the same thing."

Ignoring Anne's peevish tone, Lady Catherine leaned forward to take Anne's hands, and said, "I admit that I had such dark thoughts as well, Anne. We all tried to hide them from you, but we were clearly unsuccessful."

Anne sighed, squeezed her mother's hands, and said, "Well, you did your best, Mother. I cannot fault you."

Elizabeth said, "May I continue?"

Elizabeth thought that perhaps she should have let the discussion go on for a longer time, but it seemed unlikely to produce the results she wanted. She continued thumbing through the pages and continued.

"There were 3 times Anne was absolutely certain she would die in the month before she started writing. Four the next month, Five the following month, back to three, and so forth. Each time it was either because the pain was so intense that she was not certain she _wanted _to survive, the clues from her caregivers were overly pessimistic, or some combination of the two."

Elizabeth took out a chart she had made showing the times in a line-graph, and said, "As you can see, for the first year of the journal, these 'incidents' went up and down, varying between 2 and 5 incidents per month, but finally coming down to zero the last month of the year."

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Both Anne and Lady Catherine looked at it, and said, "Well, that is very interesting, Miss Bennet, but it seems you could have concluded that easily enough without the graph, if I am not mistaken."

"Of course, Lady Catherine. Sometimes mathematics helps to give clarity, and sometimes it does nothing but restate the obvious. Sometimes it is even harmful, as it gives a veneer of respectability to something that is at best a mistake and at worst a deliberate falsehood. In this case, it just let me see the pattern. That was just the beginning though. There is more."

"Pray, continue", Anne said, looking more and more interested in the process.

"Well, as I read through the notes, I noticed that the feelings of despair and fear ebbed and flowed, and sometimes they did not necessarily correlate with her condition. Sometimes Anne felt worse than what little objective evidence she had to report indicated, and sometimes it was better."

Anne asked, "What do you mean by 'objective', Lizzy?"

"Those are scientific terms, though not used as often as you might think. 'Subjective' means things subject to interpretation, while 'objective' means things that are true measures of something. Of course, there is some dispute about what is subject and what is objective."

Anne laughed, and said, "So you are saying that the difference between 'subjective' and 'objective' is subjective?"

Elizabeth laughed along with Anne, and said, "Very clever, Anne."

Lady Catherine said, "Are we to spend your entire 90 minutes discussing vocabulary, Miss Bennet?"

Coming back to the subject, Elizabeth said, "No, my lady. My apologies. The point I was trying to make is that the tools of mathematics are not exactly appropriate to this process, because while mathematics itself is objective, the inputs are subjective. However, I still believe it might be useful, so long as you admit that the actual analysis is considerably less exact than it might appear. I tried to map all of the different feelings I saw in Anne's diaries into a graph independently so I could see the relationships between them, but it became hopelessly muddled."

"And yet, here you are with more notes and graphs."

Elizabeth smiled at the lady, and said, "Yes, here I am. Let me explain what I tried. I made up a new measure, I shall call _Quality of Life_, where I tried to map a person's life experience. It is obviously terribly imprecise, but I tried to take everything I could read in each month and give it a numeric value. I tried to account for health, wealth, comfort and general feelings of happiness. This scale goes from 0 to 100. 90 would be a loving, happy and healthy person, free from want and strife, surrounded by loving children sitting in front of a warm fire. 10 would be a completely miserable life, someone sick, in pain, desperate. I presumed most people muddle along somewhere around 50 and then tried mapping people's lives into this scale. I find my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner by this measure would spend most of their lives around 80, while my parents would be lucky to break 50. Once I had that down, I tried mapping Anne's life similarly. It is rough, approximate, probably incorrect and in all ways insufficient, but I hope you might find it enlightening."

Lady Catherine leaned forward with some interest, and said, "Fascinating, Miss Bennet. Might you share what you learned."

Elizabeth showed them another line graph something like the first, and said, "As you can see here, the first year of this endeavor, her fifteenth year of life bounced up and down between 10 and 20 on this scale. It is the inverse of the previous graph, with the last month being the one where she did not think herself likely to die even once."

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Lady Catherine looked carefully at it, and said, "Yes, I remember that year. To be honest, the first graph could probably be measured in the volume of my tears. This tells the same story.

Anne looked and said, "Well, this is interesting, Lizzy. To tell the truth, I can hardly remember that year myself, and I have never had the courage to reread the journal. I fear you know my words better than I do now."

Elizabeth nodded, pulled out another graph, and said, "Well, let us look at your sixteenth year. You started at about what I would consider a 20, a considerable improvement, and then you bounced up and down between 20 and 30, similar to the previous year. You ended your sixteenth year at around 30, which I am certain did not seem all that wonderful, but it was a clear improvement over your fifteenth year."

Both ladies examined the graph carefully, and Anne said, "I can remember approaching my seventeenth birthday feeling like things were slightly improved, so that correlates with what you said, but I would have thought it a very minor improvement."

Elizabeth nagged, and said, "Well, let us look at that year. You managed to claw your way up from the low thirties to the upper thirties by the end of the year, and things seemed to be improving. You were not by any stretch of the imagination healthy and happy, but you were improving."

"Out of curiosity, where do you generally fit onto this scale, Miss Bennet. Have you done the exercise on yourself?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, to be honest, Lady Catherine, for most of my youth, I would have been in the 30-40 range, but that was mostly because of self‑inflicted wounds. My own behavior drove people away from me, and left me lonely and brittle, even though it was my own actions causing the problems. A good friend helped me overcome my problems, and I feel as I have lived in the 60-80 range the last few years. I am generally healthy and happy."

Anne sighed, probably in admiration, and said, "I envy you that, Lizzy."

Elizabeth looked at her, and rather than replying, said, "Shall we continue?"

"By all means."

Elizabeth uncovered another graph, and said, "Let us look at your twentieth year. As you can see, you were floating around between 30 and 50, but then, you see here a place where it went down dramatically."

Anne said, "Yes, that was the year I got a terrible cold in the winter, and it lasted for months."

"Exactly. Now, I will assert that I have so far not really told you anything a little bit of reasoning would not tell you. What is interesting though is that you were down for a few months, and then you climbed back up to your accustomed level of around 40 or so. You see it here?"

The ladies examined the graph, and Lady Catherine ventured, "Well, Miss Bennet, you have ascertained that if you get sick, and then get well, you will have a better life."

Elizabeth said, "Right, but let us look here a few months later. You had a long mostly flat period, more or less as the previous year, which was the status quo, correct?"

Both ladies nodded.

"Now, look here. You can see that it took a somewhat dramatic turn for the better just here, a few months before your twenty first birthday. It may not have seemed dramatic, but you can see it bouncing up as high as 60 over just 3 months, a score you have never previously achieved."

Anne looked carefully at the graph, and said, "Well, I do not remember that period as being particularly happier than any previous period, but I will take your word for it."

Elizabeth said, "No, you shall not. I am the mirror, remember. You have to do your own thinking."

Anne stared at it and said, "Well, Lizzy, I _can _remember that period gradually becoming better and better if I put my mind to it. Can your account for it?"

Carefully, Elizabeth said, "I shall not attempt a scientific explanation, but I can do a correlation. The upturn in your fortunes happened immediately after Dr. Choak died."

Anne and her mother gasped at that, and demanded to see the entry, as they had never put the two incidents together, since they both thought of one physician as much like another.

Elizabeth continued, "You can see that he, somewhat conveniently died when you were in a relatively good place. He was still treating you at his death, but… well, let me just ask this outright. Did he have you taking treatments, even though on any objective measure you were not especially unhealthy?"

Both ladies thought about it for a time, and Lady Catherine said, "It seemed prudent, after so many years of illness."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "But his death corresponded with a time when you were _not _particularly unhealthy, so I surmise you took your time finding another physician."

Lady Catherine said, "Yes, I suppose so. That was a year we had a flood, which was… diverting. Anne seemed all right, so I did not prioritize it."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "Well, in fact, you never got a physician until that winter, when Anne once again had a nasty cold, correct?"

"Correct."

Elizabeth said, "Now, this new physician. Anne, was there something different about him?"

Anne looked embarrassed, and said, "I would prefer not to say."

Lady Catherine looked curious, and asked, "Why not?"

Lizzy said, "When you stand in front of a mirror, you may not pick and choose what the mirror sees, Anne. Answer your mother."

Anne looked embarrassed, and said, "Well, by then I was no longer accustomed to holding my nose and taking vile concoctions so…"

She stared at her hands in embarrassment, and her mother gently asked, "So, you?"

"I disposed of most of them. I worked out a way to dump the bulk of them into the chamber pot."

Lady Catherine looked appalled, and Elizabeth jumped in.

"I do not oppose physicians, or at least not _all _physicians, but if you look at the slope of this line, you will see Anne recovered _much _more quickly than at any time in the past. She went from around 30 to around 60 in less than two months. Still not the most robust recovery in human history but doing quite well by her standards."

Lady Catherine looked at her and asked, "Say it outright, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "I do not believe the concoctions the physician was prescribing were helpful, and in fact, they may have even been harmful. Or perhaps, Doctor Choak's were helpful and the new physicians were harmful, or vice-versa. We will never know, but I _can see _that at that particular point in her life, she recovered quite quickly."

Both of the ladies looked at the graphs, and finally Lady Catherine said, "I can see the reason for your style, Miss Bennet. I might never have worked it out just from reading the journals."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "Perhaps, and perhaps not, Lady Catherine. Sometimes all you need to do is have someone unaffected examine a story to get more meaning from it. In the end, it probably matters little that I use mathematics and graphs. A good storyteller might just lay out the plotline and come to the same conclusion."

Lady Catherine nodded, and Anne said, "Perhaps, Lizzy. It all seems so obvious in retrospect."

Elizabeth said, "Things usually do. That is what mirrors are for… apparently."


	32. Frogs and Pots

Anne and her mother were thoughtful for a few minutes, and finally Anne began.

"So, having read of most of my adult life, Lizzy, I am quite certain you have an idea of how to proceed. You can see that I have had periods of as much as 60, but by your own estimates, on my good months I am at least 10-20 points below your normal level."

Elizabeth looked and said, "Yes, I believe that to be true. Are you asking me for my analysis or my recommendation?"

Anne immediately said, "Recommendation", while Lady Catherine thought about it for quite some time before agreeing.

Elizabeth said, "Well, in the end, I believe you are suffering from 'Boiling Frog' problem."

Both ladies looked confused, and Elizabeth continued.

"You see, you both suffer from an over-reliance on the status quo, and a lack of… how shall I say it… well, decisiveness. There is an old fable that sounds good, although it is as likely to be wrong as right."

Looking quite confused, Lady Catherine said, "Go on."

"Well, according to this line of thinking, if you throw a frog into a pot of boiling water, or even very hot water, it will jump right out. However, if you put one in a pot of cool water, and heat it gradually, the frog will eventually be boiled alive. It does not react to the change in circumstances, because it is too gradual."

Elizabeth sat as patiently as she could, waiting for a reaction.

Finally, Lady Catherine said, "So, this is what you mean by lack of decisiveness?"

Feeling bold, Elizabeth dared, "Yes, Anne never achieves true happiness because she has become accustomed to feeling mediocre."

Anne shook her head vigorously for a few moments, but Elizabeth could tell she was at least thinking.

Lady Catherine looked at her carefully, and said, "So, you are basically saying that Anne and I are in the pot together?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The lady nodded her head a few times, and said, "I presume you came here with a suggestion, Miss Bennet?"

"I did."

"Pray, what is it?"

Elizabeth looked at her two companions, and decided it was time for the moment of truth.

"I presume to kick the pot off the fire."

Lady Catherine raised her eyebrows, and said, "How do you plan to do that?"

Elizabeth said, "Well, change is opportunity. Kick the pot over and the frogs may find their original pond nearby, or they might strike out on their own and find a _better _pond. That is what I recommend."

Lady Catherine said, "Explain how you plan to kick this mythical pot over, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth leaned into the table, and said, "Before I do, I will ask you to trust me and agree to my terms in advance."

Lady Catherine looked affronted while Anne looked confused, but Elizabeth just sat there waiting.

"That seems a bit presumptuous."

"More than a bit, I would presume."

Lady Catherine chuckled at the minor wordplay, and said, "Well, Miss Bennet. Do you plan to kick us out of the pot and into the fire?"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "No, my lady. I plan to kick the pot over into a nearby stream that runs to all the best lakes in the world."

Lady Catherine laughed, and said, "Well, Miss Bennet, I can say one thing. You can certainly beat a metaphor to death. How long will this stream run?"

"Six months to a year."

Lady Catherine nodded, and said, "And if I demure?"

Elizabeth retrieved her watch, and said, "My uncle's coachman is a man you can set your watch by. If you see him walking to his cottage around midday, you can look at your watch. If it does not say 11:58, you should change it, because the very tides are more likely to be wrong than him. He will be here in 23 minutes, and I will be on his coach, regardless."

Lady Catherine laughed, and said, "Ah, I see you use forced schedules to prevent dithering."

Elizabeth startled a bit, but Lady Catherine said, "Peace, Miss Bennet. I did not say it was a _bad thing_. I quite like it. All right, I shall call your bluff. Anne, do you agree?"

Anne looked both confused and excited, but finally nodded, wondering what could possibly be resolved in 23 minutes.

Elizabeth smiled, and picked up the second valise, and said, "Stand up, Anne. It is fortunate that you do not have a footman here."

Anne very confusedly followed instructions, since she nearly instinctively followed just about any instruction that was spoken forcefully enough.

Elizabeth said, "The problem is that the two of you are _comfortable_ in your little boiling pot. You are both afraid to acknowledge the fact that there is nothing wrong with Anne save laziness. She does not know an instrument, supposedly due to 'her health'. I play quite well, a skill I developed over about three years while my QOL was less than 50, and yet in a decade, Anne has not learned to play a note. She had never been presented or had a season, also supposedly because she is 'unhealthy' and you are afraid, and yet she is quite robust enough. You are just afraid to step out. Over here please!"

While Elizabeth was talking, she had carried the valise over and set it on a small table, and she beckoned Anne to join her.

Elizabeth said, "Now, here is what we are going to do to kick the pot."

She extracted one of her dresses from the valise, and said, "Turn around please."

Confusedly, Anne turned around and Elizabeth started unbuttoning her dress while speaking.

"You are going to come to Hertfordshire and become a Bennet Ward for six months. My father has gone from six females in the house to five, so you will redress the balance for a while. You will learn a few accomplishments, attend local assemblies, walk with me until you build up some strength and… well, to be honest, you need to learn to _live_. You need now horizons, Anne de Bourgh, and I intend to point you in the general direction and kick you from the nest."

By then, Elizabeth had managed to unbutton the dress, and said, "Do not be embarrassed by undressing in front of your mother, Anne. Sisters do that regularly, and you are going to experience as close to sisterhood as you can. Put on my dress, as yours is entirely too fine for Longbourn. You will exchange jewelry as well. Hurry up. We are down to 17 minutes."

Anne stared at her in confusion, and so Elizabeth clapped her hands quite loudly, and said, "16 minutes, Anne. **MOVE!**"

Somewhat to Elizabeth's surprise, Anne did in fact pull off her dress and step into the new one quite sharply, and Elizabeth started buttoning it up. As she was doing that, she said, "Now the jewelry. I will give you something more appropriate. This may seem like madness, but there is method behind it. I am going to introduce you in Meryton society as a good friend of a distant relative. That is not _precisely _a lie, since the word 'distant' could mean nearly anything, and Mary is distant enough. You should have a chance to learn to live without every fortune-hunting rake in the county dropping by to court or compromise you."

Quite distressed, she said, "That is mad, Lizzy."

Elizabeth just laughed, and said, "Yes, it is! That is the plan's best feature. Come along, it will be fun."

When the buttons were finished, Anne took to removing her jewelry, and Elizabeth turned her attention to Lady Catherine, who was looking at her with a bit of befuddled amusement.

"Do not think you will escape, Little Frog."

Lady Catherine laughed, and Elizabeth said, "You, my dear, have missed out on many of the pleasures of having a daughter, so I am going to lend you one to practice on until your own returns to you."

Lady Catherine's eyes raised in surprise, but she did not reply.

Elizabeth continued, "Lady Catherine, the best woman I know is my good friend Charlotte Lucas. She is kind, intelligent, stubborn and everything wonderful; and yet she remains unmarried at 27. You will fix that."

Lady Catherine tilted her head curiously, and said, "And _why _will I do this, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth boldly stepped over, leaned down to see her eye to eye, and said, "Because you _want to_. To be honest, I feel I owe both you and Charlotte debts. You sent William to Longbourn, and he has made my sister so happy. I was quite a harridan as a child, and Charlotte lead me to the light. She turned me into a lady. She is just what you need. It will give you an occupation, something new, something diverting. I trust you to do the right thing."

Lady Catherine leaned back in her chair, clasped her hands together under her chin and thought a moment. Elizabeth could see the moment she made up her mind and smiled.

"Well, you win, Miss Bennet. Send your friend, and if she remains unmarried a year from now, it will not be from lack of introductions."

Elizabeth gave her a big smile, and quite boldly reached down to kiss the dowager on the cheek, saying, "I thank you, Lady Catherine."

The lady nodded, and said, "The thanks is all mine, Miss Bennet. I do believe you will get Anne in all sorts of trouble."

Elizabeth laughed, "Of course."

Lady Catherine looked at the mantle clock on the wall, and said, "Well, if your punctual coachman meets his reputation, I wager you have around 4 minutes to get to the front drive."

Elizabeth and Anne both laughed with abandon, both kissed the lady one last time on either cheek, and ran like the two least decorous ladies in Kent right through the grand foyer of Rosings, out the front, and into the coach… which had arrived within 30 seconds of the designated time, and was sitting with the coachman holding the door looking impatient… as he always did.

With a last wave, mother and daughter sat back to contemplate what their futures held.


	33. The Odds

_A/N: Hey Gang, glad you're liking Lizzy's conversation with Lady Catherine. Never sure if that sort of thing is over the top or not. You can see my Medical Software background there. There is a real assessment called Quality of Life, used for chronic diseases like Cancer, etc. We also have things like Performance Status and ECOG, which are scales that basically go from dead to normal. Of course, it was an anachronism as nobody was thinking that way 200 years ago, but she __could__ have, and if you haven't thrown any OTT or OOC circuit breakers yet, you're good to go. I will warn you though that I plan to use a couple of modern words in the next chapter._

_To be honest, the whole Anne and Lizzy thing came out of the blue. My original plan was almost all E&D, but now that I threw down the gauntlet, I guess I'll have to have Anne do __something__. Hmmmm…. what could it be?_

_FUN FACT: About 2 weeks ago this story became my most reviewed story in history, beating out __The Fee Entail__ and __The Cliffs of Hertfordshire__. Don't ask me to explain it, because I can't. It's a fun story, but I honestly expected hardly any readers, so go figure. _

_Sorry for the longer than usual delays on new chapters. [Insert list of whiny excuses.] We're about 5-10 chapters from the end, I think._

_Wade_

* * *

"Lizzy, what are the odds that I would fall completely in love on my very first visit away from Rosings."

"Well, as you know, Anne, things like calculating odds are fraught with difficulty."

"How so?"

Elizabeth and Anne had been ensconced in Gracechurch Street for a fortnight when the formidable conversation took place. Elizabeth had been quite interested to see how Jane and Anne got along. It turned out that they got along _all right_, but not quite as well as Elizabeth would have expected. There was nothing _wrong _with their relationship per se, but Elizabeth could see that if things continued as they were, the two ladies might never be good friends. She wondered if both ladies just rubbed each other the wrong way, or if Jane was worried about her upcoming wedding, or Anne was still too guarded, or all the ladies were just maturing to different personalities. She was quite incapable of entertaining the idea that both Jane and Anne might be a little bit jealous of their counterpart's relationship with Elizabeth. It was just not an idea that she was capable of thinking, let alone articulating.

They were sitting comfortably in mid‑afternoon, with all the time in the world to discuss their heart's content. Anne had learned to recognize the signs of an incipient thought storm in her companion, and subtly nudged her friend back to the discussion through the simple expedient of kicking her. What the trick lacked in subtlety it made up for with effectiveness.

Elizabeth snapped back to the discussion, thought over the question, and replied, "Because calculating probability always requires a lot of interpretation, guesses and assumptions. For example, calling a coin toss with a perfectly balanced coin is easy. Over time, it will return heads exactly 50% of the time, so any particular toss will be 50:50 heads, no?"

"Yes, that much is obvious."

"All right, now we can make it more complicated. Suppose you get five heads in a row. What are the odds that the next toss is heads yet again?"

Anne concentrated, and said, "Well, I suppose you would be due some tails, or you would never get back to 50:50, so I would assume tails to be more likely."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "You would be incorrect. The odds for the next toss would _still_ be exactly 50:50. Over time, it would even out, but it might be five minutes or a thousand years, though the timeframe is more likely to be the former than the latter. Now suppose the coin is balanced incorrectly somehow. Suppose it could be subtly weighted? Cheaters do that routinely with dice. They are called 'loaded dice' and they are heavier on one side than the other, so they tend to defy the odds."

"Well, I can see how that would work."

Elizabeth leaned forward, getting interested in the entirely pointless discussion, and said, "So, now let us say you are trying to calculate the odds of a _human_ interaction. For a simple matter of making a decision where you must choose between one alternative and another, both of equal value, you might toss a coin and let fate decide. It has been done many times. But suppose instead of using the coin to _select_ an action, you wanted it to _predict _an action. That, after all is the reason for calculating odds. You would have to assert that 'heads' means one thing and 'tails' means something else, no?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Well, after that it gets complicated. Using odds or probability for anything at all requires a subtle mapping of assumptions and constraints into the problem. The mathematics is precise, but the mapping is almost entirely guesswork, with varying levels of robustness."

Anne giggled, and said, "Perhaps, I should rephrase the question. May I?"

"Of course?"

"Lizzy, what are the odds that I could ask you a simple question and you could answer it quickly enough and with few enough tangents that I could remember the question by the time you finally got around to answering it?"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "I should think that the odds would be at least 1000:1, but I cannot say, since I am not at all certain that the event you are speculating about has ever happened… though I will admit it as a theoretical possibility."

Anne laughed along with her, and said, "Well, I've never fallen in love before, so that is a similar situation. So, are you asserting that my chances of falling in love on my first foray outside my family is 1000:1?"

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Perhaps, and perhaps not. You could also assert that you were far overdue for falling in love, but your situation prevented its completion. In that scenario, falling in love when you left Rosings was nearly inevitable."

The ladies giggled a bit, and Anne said, "Well, that was… I have no idea. Did it make any sense to you?"

"It is hard to say. I cannot even remember the original question. Shall we move onto the discussion of the object of your affections."

Anne, smiled and said, _"He is just what a young man ought to be, sensible, good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners!–so much ease, with such perfect good breeding!"_

_"He is also handsome," replied Elizabeth, "which a young man ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete."_

_"I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I did not expect such a compliment."_

_"Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference between us, Anne. Compliments always take you by surprise, and me never. What could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman in the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person."_

Anne laughed gaily, and said, "Well, with the approval of Elizabeth Bennet, I may very well consider the matter settled."

"Ought we to discuss the particulars and potential objections to a match, for you know there are several."

"I suppose so,", replied Anne.

"Well, he is the son of the daughter of a gentleman, but his father is a tradesman, so I imagine that might not be well received at Rosings."

Anne laughed, and said, "Well, that might _ordinarily _be true, but that is without the approval of Elizabeth Bennet! I am certain you can sort it all out."

"Who says I will approve. I am not at all certain on this matter."

"What possible objection could you have?"

"Well, I will assert that a young man should not be married before the age of twenty. Are you entirely certain you are willing to wait 17 years for your beau?"

Both ladies burst into laughter, this time loud enough to wake the object of their affection, thus triggering the inevitable. He asked for a biscuit, and both ladies kissed him on the forehead and complied with his requests. Neither had the fortitude to deny young Malcolm Gardiner anything his little heart desired. Elizabeth reflected that technically, his fourth birthday was not for at least six months, so her guess of 17 years was at best an approximation. Perhaps Anne needed to find a beau closer to her own age.

The hubbub also awoke young Malcolm's sister, so the ladies decided to take the entire lot down for milk and biscuits, and then go visit the park, which had turned out to be Anne's favorite bit of London.

* * *

"What do you mean, you've never been to the theatre?", Elizabeth asked in horror.

"Exactly what I said, as usual, Lizzy", Anne replied without raising an eye, but added, "the statement was in plain English."

Elizabeth just shook her head in consternation, and said, "Well, I will not blame your mother for that Anne. Going to the theatre requires you to walk a few hundred yards and sit for a couple hours in a comfortable chair. You never had an excuse aside from laziness."

Anne looked chagrinned, and Elizabeth started to soften her stance, but Anne started speaking first.

"You are right, Lizzy. Old habits die hard. It took all my courage to ask you for help. You are correct that I _could have _done better had I been braver or more aggressive. I intend to remedy that with your help."

Elizabeth felt embarrassed for her outburst, and started to apologize, but Anne overruled her again, saying, "Do not apologize, Lizzy. I need to toughen up a bit. I imagine your younger sisters will whip me into shape soon enough."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Well, I hope you do toughen up. You do know I will not be there for your entire stay. I am traveling with my aunt and uncle in the summer."

"Yes, you mentioned that. Do you know where?"

"Not yet. They have mentioned Brighton, Ramsgate and Cornwall, but nothing is decided."

"They all sound lovely, and do not worry about me."

Elizabeth smiled, completely forgetting the earlier discussion, and said, "Let us see what the summer brings. Perhaps Aunt and Uncle will offer to bring you along."

Anne considered, and finally said, "No, I would ask you not to encourage such a scheme. I… I… well…"

Elizabeth waited patiently, and Anne finally continued.

"I am treating you like a mother bird, Lizzy. You are feeding and sheltering me; but sooner or later, you will have to push me out of the nest and hope I do not splat on the ground. Summer seems about the right time for that. If I cannot handle the Bennet sisters by then, what hope have I against the _ton_."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "So you do plan to have a season?"

Anne laughed, and said, "There is no you in that sentence, Lizzy. We will have a season. Mother will insist on sponsoring you next season… unless of course you have other arrangements at the time."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Let us crawl before we splat… or is that how the old saying goes."

Anne squeezed her hand, and then they got up to go change for the theater. Anne had with a great deal of stealth obtained tickets to the theatre in her uncle's box, and was treating the Gardiners, Bennets and Jane's Mr. Jameson to the theater.


	34. The Theatre

"Jane, this box is wonderful. We must be certain Anne conveys our heartfelt thanks to her uncle."

Jane and Elizabeth were standing in a beautifully appointed luxury box in the theatre with Mr. Jameson waiting for the play to begin. Uncle and Aunt Gardiner had encountered some acquaintances they had not seen for some time, so they were speaking out in the hall. Anne had met a distant aunt she had not seen for years, so she had gone off to meet a distant cousin. She was expected to return before the curtain. The sisters were spending time with Mr. Jameson waiting for the play to begin.

Jane gave Elizabeth a smile that was somewhere between an inscrutable cat smile and a smirk, and replied, "Ah, Lizzy. I must agree with you on the quality of the arrangement, but I must correct you on the identity of our benefactor. It transpires that Anne's uncle needed his box tonight for some political purpose, so he arranged another. It all happened while you were at the modiste yesterday. Did Anne not mention it?"

"No, perhaps it slipped her mind. Nevertheless, I shall convey my heartfelt thanks. Do you know who our mysterious host is? Might we expect his presence, and will we be able to perhaps write a note of thanks?"

"Well, his presence is not expected, but he is not as predictable these days as he once was, so I cannot give you a solid assurance one way or the other. I am certain though that he would welcome the note, presuming it is properly directed through Uncle Gardiner."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrow in curiosity, and replied, "Pray tell, perhaps you can expand on that… or is confusion your goal. I must say that if that is your aim, you have made a good beginning."

"Of course. I have not spoken to the gentleman for several days, but at the time of our most recent conversation, his plans did not involve being in town tonight. He apparently has other urgent business away from London."

Feeling like her sister was baiting her just to see what would happen, Elizabeth kept her curiosity in check, and blandly asked, "So, it is someone you know, then. Very mysterious! Very mysterious, indeed! Might I at least know who this person is?"

Jane, somewhat impertinently enjoying the conversation, naturally decided she should increase her sister's discomfiture, so she replied, "Of course! This is _your Mr. Darcy's_ box."

Elizabeth, who had been enjoying the banter so far paused in shock, for once, completely unable to think of anything to say for several seconds. Jane and Mr. Jameson waited patiently, enjoying the relative silence.

At length, Elizabeth said, "I can see my labors at instructing you in mathematics were ill advised, Jane. I should have had you studying English, as you do not seem to understand the meaning of certain basic words. What in the world, would make you mix _'your'_ and _'Mr. Darcy'_ in the same sentence?"

Unperturbed, Jane said, "Oh, I understand perfectly, Elizabeth. I will stand by my assertion. When I met the gentleman recently, he seemed completely transformed."

"And you did not feel some desire to _mention _this to me?"

Jane ducked her head, and said, "Well, I was planning to, Lizzy. I did not keep it from you deliberately, but…"

Elizabeth suspiciously said, "…but?"

"Well, you seemed so engaged with Miss de Bourgh, and I have been quite engaged with my betrothed, and then we were buying new dresses, and… well, the time never seemed quite right."

Elizabeth replied in almost a squeal, "But here in the theatre, in public, ten minutes before the show starts seems ideal?"

Jane just stared at her calmly, and said, "Yes… or at least, it is as good as any other time. But may I ask you something, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth reined in her temper, and said, "You may as well…. and I suppose it would not kill you to tell me when, how and why you met with Mr. Darcy while you are at it."

"Well, I shall come to that presently, but why do you react to me calling him 'your Mr. Darcy' so strongly. I have teased you with words of a similar nature for going on half a year now, with nary a raised eyebrow. At the most, you might have said something like…"

Jane lowered her voice in her best approximation of a man and said, "_… my Mr. Darcy thinks I am tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt him._"

Expecting a laugh from Elizabeth, she was surprised that what she got was more of a strangled exclamation and a weak smile accompanied by a slight blush.

Feeling guilty, Jane said, "I am sorry, Lizzy. I did not realize it might be a sensitive subject. It is just, that he seems such a changed man. I dug poor Mr. Occam up from the back yard, and he asserts that you must have set him on the straight and narrow path while visiting Rosings. That is why I called him 'your Mr. Darcy'."

Elizabeth said, "That makes no sense, Jane. By the same logic, you could refer to 'my Mr. Jameson'."

Much to her consternation, Elizabeth heard a chuckle, since she had mostly forgotten her future brother in law was present and listening. That gentleman said, "Well, Miss Lizzy… I am not opposed to that scheme. When you helped me with your 'little boxes', I became your most ardent admirer and servant. I will soon be your brother, and should the need ever arise, your protector to the best of my ability. I am quite happy to be called 'your Mr. Jameson', so long as you do not claim exclusivity."

Elizabeth laughed, somewhat embarrassed by the entire conversation, and smiled at the couple to show she was not overly distressed, and said, "Well, I suppose if that is all you meant, and it was mostly in jest, you may refer to him as such, privately. Please, by everything that is holy, do not ever say something like that among less discreet listeners. My reputation is fragile enough as it is."

"Of course, not… and I will stop teasing about him entirely if you still hate him, Lizzy."

Jane and her beau watched Elizabeth carefully, and were astonished to see a bit of a wistful _something _appear there, though neither of them felt in the least bit able to identify what exactly _it_ was.

"No, Jane… Mr. Darcy and I have… well… we have… I mean to say…"

A confused and stammering Elizabeth Bennet was a sight to behold. Having her sister caught up in a mind storm and was one thing, Jane was accustomed to, but not this. She tended to go silent while her mind went in circles, but then when she came out of her cave, she tended to speak clearly and forcefully. She had since she was a child, even when what she said made no sense at all. A confused sister was entirely new ground, and Jane could not say whether it was reassuring or worrying. Elizabeth had long ago taught her to be comfortable holding completely opposite emotions at the same time, so she was not overly concerned – just curious. She waited patiently, and at length was rewarded.

"As you suspect, Mr. Darcy and I have had a few _awkward conversations_. Actually, I have had awkward conversations with almost everyone at Rosings except Anne's companion, Mrs. Jenkinson. We are…"

She seemed to run out of words, as Jane saw the age-old signs of an incipient thought storm brewing, so she leaned down in front of her sister and said, "… you are? … You are what, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I cannot truly say. I imagine we are friends, although our 'friendship', such as it is, would be considered quite odd. I guess… that is to say… well, I believe we understand one another."

Jane gasped, which caused Elizabeth to look up at her, since she had been staring at her new slippers as she spoke. She saw the look on Jane's face and thought it was time to nip any speculation in the bud.

"Jane, do not take my poor choice of words to mean anything. We do _not _have an understanding of any kind… We _understand _each other in the conventional sense, not _that one_."

To Elizabeth's surprise, Jamison said, "Well, Elizabeth, as you probably know, there are understandings, and there are understandings. Would it be fair to say that there is _no_ chance that your current understanding will _ever_ be another type?"

Flummoxed and feeling cornered, Elizabeth snapped, "Stop poking, both of you. I have said all I have to say on the matter."

Jane took both of her hands, and said, "We are sorry, Lizzy. We truly did not want to make you miserable. It started out as some light-hearted teasing, and we are sorry it got out of hand."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "All right, Jane. Let us not allow it to become acrimonious."

Jameson cautiously said, "How should we treat any friendship, or whatever it is, Miss Elizabeth? Should we treat it as a sensitive subject and refrain from mentioning the gentleman?"

"No, Mr. Jameson… all is well. Things between us are… complicated, and unlikely to simplify any time soon. Just speak about him normally. Since you brought it up, can you tell me the subject of your conversation."

Jane looked down in slight embarrassment, and said, "Well, it seemed decidedly odd at the time. He contacted Uncle Gardiner and said he would like to have a small discussion with me. Uncle Gardiner told him I was betrothed, and he said that he already knew."

She looked up at her sister and asked, "How did he know, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth thought back to that night in the parsonage and all that occurred. There was not the slightest chance she would share all of the content of that evening, so she simply said, "He visited right after I opened the dollhouse, so I… well…"

She then thought back to the Colonel's conversation, and thought better of bringing it up, but Jane continued.

"I imagine you were still angry about the Colonel's revelation?"

Elizabeth snapped her eyes back to Jane and asked, "How did you know about that?"

Jane continued, "Well, I imagine I should finish my story. He told Uncle Gardiner that he owed me an apology on a certain matter, and very respectfully asked his advice about the best way to go about it. I imagined that if Mr. Darcy was on Gracechurch Street, you were no doubt behind the scheme, so I asked him to come back the next day and talk to me along with my betrothed. I did not believe any good could come of meeting alone with a man after becoming recently betrothed."

"And he agreed to this?"

"Oh, yes. To tell you the truth, Uncle says he looked relieved. He returned at the promised time and proceeded to apologize profusely for interfering in my affairs. That was the point where I knew for certain you must be involved in some way."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Yes, I did make him… err… aware of his officiousness but told him explicitly that he could let it go as it all worked out for the best."

Jamison said, "Well, were I in the unlucky gent's shoes, I could not leave well enough alone, and I suspect you were waving a cape at his sense of honor with that statement, like the Spaniards do in bull rings. He came prepared to eat humble pie, and when we were disinclined to serve it, he showed that he brought his own."

Elizabeth laughed at the turn of phrase, and mentally cataloged it for later use. She asked, "So what did he do?"

"He apologized and asserted that he was shamed. He said he had not _acted in a gentlemanlike manner. _Oddly enough, he said that he would ordinarily offer reparations, but he was afraid I would be offended by the idea."

Elizabeth looked curious, and Jane answered without being asked, "I never thought about it enough to think one way or another, Lizzy. I simply decided it was best to confuse him some more, so I thanked him very kindly for his very nicely done apology, and then thanked him very kindly for taking the action in the first place."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "So you thanked him for two opposite things at the same time?"

"Of course. If he wants to be your friend, or whatever he is, he needs to embrace the ambiguities of life."

Elizabeth laughed in amusement, while thinking that if Mr. Darcy was trying to learn to act in a more gentlemanlike manner, he was certainly making a good start of it.

Jameson took up the story, and said, "He said he would like to invite us to his townhouse for dinner, but he had another urgent matter of business to see to. He then indicated he had heard I was looking for an estate and offered to lend any assistance I could use."

Without thinking, Lizzy said, "You should take him up on it. He is very good at what he does."

She was so busy thinking about all that had been said, she completely missed the nod and smile between her sister and future brother.

Jameson continued, "He said that he would be honored to host us at Pemberley, should we ever be prepared to make the journey to Derbyshire."

This got Elizabeth's attention, and she said in something of a squeak, _"He what?"_

Jane just chuckled, and said, "You heard him. Pull it from your own head, Lizzy. We are invited to Pemberley at our convenience."

Elizabeth just nodded, and said, "Well… that is… interesting."

She was finding her thinking completely muddled by the entire conversation, and wondering if the play would _ever_ start, when she heard a small commotion at the door to the box. Someone was in the corridor saying, "That is odd. Someone seems to be in Darcy's box."

She was just wondering if the box was about to turn into some kind of messy social debacle, when she heard the most unexpected exclamation.

"Miss Bennet! How wonderful to see you! This evening just gets better and better." 


	35. Plus Two

_A/N: As you can tell, I'm occasionally a fan of cliffys or guessing games. You decide which. I'm not actually usually a Cliffy guy, but these last couple of chapters seemed to call for them. _

_I'm thinking my fans are out for blood, as lots of guesses it would be the Bingleys, which would be… interesting. Maybe it is them, and maybe…_

_Wade_

* * *

It took Elizabeth much longer than it should have to answer, but since there was no trick Anne knew that Jane had not invented long before, she was brought back to focus with a quick kick from her sister. She finally remembered her manners long enough to curtsy and give a greeting.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam. What an… unexpected pleasure."

She hoped he would not read too much into the slight pause as she tried to decide between accuracy and politeness – or at least she liked to pretend she was that much in control of her thoughts. In truth, she was just startled and trying her best not to babble. It felt as if she were being haunted by the ghosts of Rosings this evening, and she was not convinced she cared for the experience.

Of course, Jane had no idea who the new entrant was, so she was not going to be very much help. The gentleman was not in uniform, so he looked indistinguishable from a hundred other gentlemen they had seen that evening. Fortunately, the Colonel either did not notice the pause, or chose not to react to it.

"Yes, Miss Bennet. It is a supreme pleasure. I had no idea you might be here."

Elizabeth looked a bit embarrassed, and said, "I hope you are not inconvenienced, Colonel. As I understand it, your father offered us the use of _his_ box, and then moved us to this one at the last minute. Your cousin arranged the whole thing. Of course, if you have need of it, we can return another evening."

The Colonel laughed, and said, "Not on your life, Miss Bennet. This is a fortuitous encounter, and I find not the slightest fault in it. I have slept with a dozen men in a tent smaller than this box many times."

Elizabeth laughed while Jane looked a bit shocked. Elizabeth noticed the Colonel had a young lady on his arm, and judging by her age, she presumed it was a relative of some sort, as no gentleman of any sense would step out with someone that young. The lady looked to be about Kitty's age, but was taller, blonder, much better dressed and looking somewhere between intimidated, confused and excited.

The Colonel, perhaps for the first time in his life seemed to be at a loss for words. Elizabeth let him sweat a bit, thinking now was as good a time as any for him to work on his character.

The gentleman finally said, "If you have no objection, perhaps you could be more explicit, Miss Bennet. _Which cousin?_ I have several."

Elizabeth was happy to hear the old teasing tone in the man's voice, so she replied, "It was Anne."

The man looked startled, and said, "Anne de Bourgh?"

"Yes, the self-same. She is staying with my family, first in Cheapside and then in Hertfordshire for a few months. She arranged everything."

The man seemed incapable of processing that bit of intelligence, so Elizabeth added somewhat whimsically, "Perhaps whilst you are trying to adjust your view of the world to one that includes Anne somewhere other than Rosings, we might perform introductions Colonel. Anne should be back before curtain."

Shaking his head, the Colonel said, "Perhaps you could begin."

"Of course. My Aunt and Uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Edwin Gardiner. May I introduce you to Colonel Fitzwilliam. His father arranged the loan of this box."

"A pleasure, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner."

"The pleasure is all ours, Colonel."

Elizabeth continued, "Colonel, my eldest sister, Miss Jane Bennet and her betrothed, Mr. Jameson. We briefly discussed her in Hertfordshire."

Elizabeth gave the Colonel a smile to take the sting off the revelation. She wanted him to suffer a little bit, but not too much. More importantly, she wanted him to understand who Jane was so he would not say anything stupid… or at least, she could reasonably reduce the odds of it happening.

Jameson had been not quite in the Colonel's line of sight, but hearing the name, the Colonel smiled hugely, and said, "Miss Bennet, it is a supreme pleasure to meet you. Your sister did not exaggerate your admirable qualities in the least."

Jane curtsied, wondered what in the world Lizzy had said to the man, and said, "The pleasure is mine, Colonel."

Feeling mischievous, Elizabeth replied, "Is she not the perfect _reflection_ of my description, Colonel?"

Looking a bit startled, and just barely realizing that Darcy must have said considerably more to the lady than he had relayed, and then wondering just how far into her brown books he presently resided, Fitzwilliam quickly said, "Indeed!"

Jamison bowed to match the Colonel, and said, "Fitzwilliam, I presume all agreements are still in place?"

The Colonel laughed openly, restoring his good humor and losing most of the awkwardness he had been feeling. He said, "Ah, I did not see you there Jameson. Of course, all agreements are in place as always."

Curiously, Elizabeth asked, "Agreements?"

Jameson said, "Well, there are certain non‑disclosure gentleman's agreements between the Colonel and I from our days in Cambridge, mostly involving certain… incidents involving primarily donkeys and chickens."

Everyone in the group laughed, and Elizabeth decided to move things along, silently grateful to her soon to be brother for recognizing the awkwardness and intervening. Everyone seemed much more relaxed, except for the young lady with the Colonel. She was a timid looking little thing, who looked like she would be afraid of her shadow if the candles could produce one; but Elizabeth assumed she would come out of her shell sooner or later. Elizabeth had no objection as the lady hid safely behind the Colonel for a few minutes.

"Of course, that brings us round to me, and your young lady. Since you seem more inclined towards discussions of livestock than introductions, perhaps I can take care of the young lady. I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and my companions are my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, my eldest sister, and my livestock master, Mr. Jameson."

She then curtsied in quite an exaggerated fashion to the young lady, which predictably made her giggle, which was the effect Elizabeth had been searching for.

The Colonel laughed, and said, "Well, speaking of donkeys, allow me. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, my cousin and ward, Miss Georgiana Darcy. Georgie, this is Miss Bennet… or I suppose Miss Elizabeth now."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Yes, I shall be Miss Elizabeth for another couple of months until my sister surrenders the title."

Georgiana curtsied, and said somewhat shakily, "I am honored to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Mr. Jameson, Miss Bennet, and Miss Elizabeth."

The young lady stared at Elizabeth for a moment, and finally said, "I have heard your name before, Miss Elizabeth. Quite often, if I am not mistaken. Did you not walk three miles to tend your sister at Netherfield in the autumn?"

Elizabeth was surprised by the question, and said, "I presume you would walk a dozen miles to tend your brother, Miss Darcy?"

The young lady said, "If the need arose, I would do more than that."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "There – you can see that no particular praise is necessary. What is three miles. I would walk farther than that just to enjoy the shock on certain faces when I appeared with my petticoats six inches deep in mud."

Georgiana laughed, and continued, "Well, my brother understandably did not feel inclined to delve into matters of petticoats. I wonder though, did you mortally wound my brother's pride by beating him in a game of chess in less than twenty minutes?"

Quite surprised, Elizabeth said, "Well, I cannot boast of beating an inferior opponent", but smiled to show she was teasing.

The young lady seemed surprised, but then gave a huge smile as she went along with the jest.

Elizabeth added, "To be fair, Miss Darcy, I only beat your brother in two games, so I am hardly due any bragging rights."

"Two games – out of how many, Miss Elizabeth. You know perfectly well that the numerator is not that useful without the corresponding denominator."

Elizabeth laughed a bit at the mathematical reference, and said, "Well, Miss Darcy… you are absolutely correct. We played three games."

The young lady laughed for just a second before stopping and looking embarrassed, so Elizabeth stepped over to her, took her hand and said, "Never apologize for honest laughter, Miss Darcy. Anyone who is offended is not worth knowing, so it is a useful way to help sort the wheat from the chafe."

The young lady smiled, still looking very uncomfortable and unsure of herself, so Elizabeth spent a moment trying to decide if making her comfortable would best be done by Jane or herself.

Her reverie was interrupted when a young footman stepped in and handed Uncle Gardiner a note. He read it and said, "Well, Lizzy, I fear we have been abandoned. Miss de Bourgh will be staying with her family for the performance."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, that is a good outcome, Uncle. It will save me from being rude, as I intend to only speak with Miss Darcy. Colonel, you and Mr. Jameson can go look for livestock or reminisce about old livestock if that is more convenient. Miss Darcy, you will be here beside me."

Looking somewhat comforted, the young lady went towards the specified seat just as the bell for the curtain rang. She was not in the least bit concerned that a stranger was ordering her about her own box, as it was obvious Miss Elizabeth was looking out for her welfare and her comfort.

The Colonel let her go with a smile on his face and went to sit beside the Gardiners to enjoy the play.

* * *

The play turned out to be the perfect introduction for two young ladies, and Elizabeth gave some thought to making it the done‑thing. The play was a not particularly popular light comedy that both ladies knew well, having read it. The company was adequate but not capital, so while the actions on the stage were entertaining, they were not riveting. A few comments early in the first act, and the rebuttal gave both ladies a chance to whisper back and forth between themselves. They spoke more and more about the play, by the time of the first intermission, they were practically ready to talk about something else.

At the intermission, the Colonel came to the ladies and said, "I see you are becoming acquainted."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Yes, I am corrupting your cousin, Colonel. I hope you do not mind."

He just laughed, and said, "Corrupt away, my lady. I plan to take your uncle to do battle for refreshments. Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet and Jameson plan to visit some of his friends. Will the two of you be all right here by yourselves?"

Elizabeth looked to Miss Darcy with a silent query and was happy to see a shy smile on the young lady. She said, "So long as you remember that the card parlor and the refreshments are in opposite directions, I shall condescend to allow it."

Elizabeth laughed at the small witticism, wondering how long Miss Darcy would be shy. She suspected that the young lady was shy around her brother and the Colonel, and probably led a sheltered existence that precluded much opportunity to practice… but then immediately chastised herself for unfounded speculation.

Elizabeth said, "There is a footman stationed by the door, Colonel. That seems a bit extravagant, but if you will ask him to insure nobody but our party enters the box, I shall be happy to take responsibility for your charge."

The Colonel laughed, and said, "Like sending the fox to guard the chickens, Miss Elizabeth", and then he laughed some more, bowed, and left the box with Uncle Gardiner.

Elizabeth turned to Miss Darcy and said, "What shall we talk about, Miss Darcy? I am at your disposal."

Watching the young lady carefully, she noticed that whatever store of courage had allowed her to be so flippant with the Colonel seemed to have been exhausted, and she seemed to be flailing about a bit.

Wishing to help the young lady be easy, Elizabeth said, "Be easy, Miss Darcy. We need not discuss anything of any particular import. I am just happy to spend the time with you. Your brother mentioned you briefly, and certain parties in Netherfield spoke about you at length, but I actually know almost nothing."

Curiously, she watched the young lady to see if she had a preferred topic, thinking she would give her half a minute, and then introduce something innocuous. She was watching carefully when she saw the young lady sigh, draw a deep breath, stand up straighter, and speak.

"Miss Elizabeth, we have not known each other an hour yet, and we have not much time before our relatives return. Might I… that is… well…"

At that point, Elizabeth took her hand, and said, "Have no fear, Miss Darcy. Nothing you say is likely to rattle me nor cause any censure. You may even dispense with propriety and manners if it helps."

Georgiana was still staring at her shoes, so Elizabeth boldly put the knuckles of her hands under her chin to raise her head, and said, "You need have no fear of me, Miss Darcy."

The young lady's eyes got very large in surprise, but she then let out a startled exclamation, "Of course not!"

She then ducked her head down for just a moment, but then she looked back up and directly into Elizabeth's eyes and said more calmly, "I apologize, Miss Elizabeth. That must have seemed rude, but I _know_ I need not fear you. I just wondered… would you be willing to have tea with me at my home? You would be my first non‑family guest."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "There, now, that was not so difficult, was it. I would be honored, so long as you obtain approval from your guardian. I am leaving for Hertfordshire in only a few days, but I could attend tomorrow or the day after. Should I bring Jane and Anne?"

The lady stared at her hard for a moment, and said, "No, just you if you do not mind. I am happy to send a coach and a maid to escort you – not that you cannot cross London without our help, but I would not want to inconvenience your aunt and uncle. As for permission, well my guardian is the Colonel right now. I could obtain permission from him to invite a troop of trolls to dig out our basement for months, and he would approve if it seemed possible that they might find brandy there."

Elizabeth laughed, possibly more than the jest was worth, and was happy to see the young lady relax minutely.

"Well, I am happy to attend you, Miss Darcy. It will be my privilege. Did you have anything in particular you wished to discuss?"

She heard a commotion at the door, and saw the Colonel returning with Jameson, deeply engaged in their apparent favorite subject which had expanded beyond poultry and livestock to include Oxford Dons. Elizabeth surmised that the less she knew about that discussion the better.

Knowing there was not very much time, she looked back to the young lady, and said, "Well, we have not much private time left, Miss Darcy. Do you wish to tell me the topic of discussion, if any? If not, we can sort it out then. I am happy to attend you."

The young lady looked around to insure they were alone, and said, "Yes, Miss Elizabeth. I have several things I would like to discuss with you. I imagine we should start with the basics. _What in the world have you done with my brother?"_


	36. Humble Pie

_A/N: Hey gang, no idea where all these tangential stories are coming from. For those of you looking for a confrontation between our protagonist and the Bingleys, I urge patience. I knew how that was going to play out even before I finished the short version. I'll get to them eventually._

_FUN FACT: This story is now my third longest at 104k, which is surprising since it's basically a scope-creeped one-shot. 5-10 chapters to go. Hope you're enjoying it._

_Wade_

* * *

Elizabeth thought she should at least pretend to be startled by the abrupt question about Mr. Darcy, but since it was at least the third time it had been asked, she was more accustomed to it than she would have expected. The fact that Mr. Darcy _had_ gone to Cheapside to apologize to Jane proved definitively that Elizabeth _had _changed at least _something_ about him, so there was little point disputing the charge.

She saw the moment where her new young friend realized the magnitude of the impropriety and awkwardness of the question and start to look afraid. Elizabeth did not want Miss Darcy to suffer from her brief bout of courage, so the thought to intervene. She quickly said, "I shall be happy to discuss that topic, Miss Darcy. Be easy… I am not concerned or offended in any way, and that is not, I fear, the first time that question has come up, so it seems a valid query."

Then she saw that she had just a moment before the Colonel appeared, she leaned very close and whispered, _"I will not necessarily own to being responsible for any change, but can you at least tell me if said change is good or bad?"_

Georgiana looked around, and whispered, _"Oh, good! Good! Good! Beyond doubt, but… confusing."_

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, we shall have a proper discussion on the morrow."

The lady smiled just as the Colonel appeared and said, "Well, I hope I am not interrupting if you _have secret affairs to discuss."_

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Well, Colonel, it is interesting that you phrase your question that particular way. I am trying to narrow down a theory about how young men are raised. At the moment, I believe either the Fitzwilliam and Darcy boys share some sort of dictionary, or perhaps it is taught at Cambridge, or maybe you were all raised by wolves. That _exact phrase_ was used by your cousin last Autumn in Hertfordshire. So, what say you, Colonel? How do you account for it?"

The Colonel laughed uproariously while Georgiana looked perplexed. The gentleman finally said, "Well, Darcy tells me you are an aficionado of simple explanations for simple phenomena, no?"

"Yes, Sir. It is called Occam's Razor."

"Well, in that case I must say the 'raised by wolves' theory would explain just about every action you have ever seen from us, or indeed, from our entire sex, so who am I to argue with Occam. The leader of the pack taught us all the right words."

Then he bowed so deep Elizabeth thought he might well fall over on the floor, which triggered a bout of laughter from her young friend, who had probably never been exposed to true silliness, so Elizabeth joined her in laughter.

When the Colonel stood up straight again with a big grin, he said, "Georgie, might I have a quick word with Miss Elizabeth before the curtain?"

"Of course! I shall go talk to the Gardiners. They will probably make more sense than you anyway."

With a quick curtsy she did as she had suggested, and Elizabeth quit worrying about her to focus on the Colonel. She imagined a hundred things he _might _say, and 98 of them were things she could really do without, but she _was _curious.

"Miss Elizabeth, I wish to ask your advice on a certain matter."

"I am at your disposal, Colonel."

Looking chagrinned, he said, "I imagine you and Darcy must have had quite the conversation on our last day there. I believe you learned of my _Mirror and Statue _theory."

Elizabeth started to feel embarrassed, but then decided she should not be missish, so she laughed, and said, "You may consider yourself elevated to the level of Mr. Occam, Colonel. Not only did Mr. Darcy share that theory with me, but he apparently told Anne, and I told Lady Catherine. I should not be surprised to find it published in the paper. It is not exactly secret."

Looking chagrinned, the man said, "Well, I hope you were not offended by it."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, Colonel… being offended would serve very little purpose. I seem to be dragged into every awkward conversation in three counties. Thus far, I have been mostly what others consider _successful_, so I imagine I should not complain. I found the mirror analogy useful with your Cousin Anne, so I imagine I should thank you rather than offer censure."

The Colonel said, "Well, I thank you Miss Elizabeth, and if I offended you in any way, might I apologize."

Elizabeth looked at the man carefully, and said, "All offenses against me are forgiven, Colonel. Consider yourself absolved."

The colonel smiled a crooked little smile that Elizabeth suspected would have him leg-shackled within a fortnight if he ever showed it to Lydia while he was in uniform, and said, "We call that 'dodging a bullet' in the army."

Elizabeth laughed along with him and said, "Well, to be honest, Colonel, you were never as far in my brown books as you seem to believe. Perhaps you dodged a bullet, but it was a bullet thrown by hand from a 10-year-old boy, rather than fired from your rifle."

He laughed, and said, "Well, you could put an eye out with one of those."

Elizabeth laughed with him and glanced at Georgiana. She was staring at them in apparent wonder, and Elizabeth wondered if the two gentlemen ever let their charge see how men and woman behaved. Perhaps the young lady was a bit overprotected. She would not be the first. Elizabeth made a mental note to ask the heiress about it if she had a chance.

The Colonel said, "On one more issue, I would ask your advice. As you know, being present, I essentially slighted your sister in Hunsford. Should I offer her an apology?"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Apologies seem rampant among you men. Mr. Darcy already offered one that was apparently quite heartfelt and well done – although to be fair, he owed her one. I would recommend you leave well enough alone. I never told Jane what happened and have no intention of doing so. An apology would be a solution in search of a problem."

The Colonel looked unsure of himself, and Elizabeth was getting impatient, so she raised her voice in exasperation, and said, "Jane, the Colonel feels obligated to apologize for inadvertently spreading, in the entire course of his life, about the same amount of gossip as Mama spreads in a typical Tuesday afternoon tea. What do you recommend?"

Jane said, "Why are you asking me?"

"It is just the Colonel and I over here. We need advice from someone sensible… oh, and you may have been the subject."

Jane laughed, and said, "_Oh, that!_ We are all done with that. Consider yourself absolved, Colonel. If you feel some compulsion to make amends, you might quietly tell me some stories about my betrothed I can use to blackmail him into doing my bidding once I have him in my power."

All three laughed, and Elizabeth was happy to see Miss Darcy joining in, along with the Gardiners.

The bell for the curtain rang, and Elizabeth said, "Perhaps I should offer you an apology, Colonel, and please, let us not waste time with you denying you are due one."

He chuckled, and said, "The very thought would never occur to me, Miss Elizabeth. I cannot for the life of me work out what you might apologize for, but I will take you at your word."

"Well, Colonel… when we first met, you reminded me of another so‑called gentleman whose name is no longer spoken. I am afraid I imbued you with his attributes, good and bad, and never really gave you a chance to know me. You and your cousin were both harmed by my propensity to overly rely on first impressions. Mr. Darcy and I have moved past it, so I imagine you and should do so as well. It was dishonest and not fair to you."

The Colonel looked chagrinned, and said, "Miss Elizabeth, you apologize double the amount required for a tenth of the offense. May we begin anew?"

Elizabeth smiled, dipped a curtsy, and said, "Good Sir, I am Elizabeth Bennet. It is my pleasure to meet you."

He bowed, and said, "Colonel Fitzwilliam, at your service, ma'am. It is indeed a pleasure."

Elizabeth started to wave Georgiana over, but the Colonel held up his hand, and said, "In all seriousness, Miss Elizabeth, I do owe you some thanks. It is sometimes helpful to glance in the mirror from time to time. As you may have surmised, neither Darcy nor I liked what we found."

"None of us do, Colonel, but I would beg you to remember a mirror is just a tool. It has flaws and inaccuracies of its own. If you learned something, then I am satisfied, but I would caution you not to read more into it than the reflection warrants."

The Colonel chuckled, and said, "I probably should not tell you this, but Darcy predicted you would say something like that."

"He is smarter than he looks."

The Colonel chuckled, and said, "Indeed! Just one more thing, Miss Elizabeth. I should like to perform some type of service to you. I understand you will resist this idea thinking of it as reparations or something of the like. Without reading too much into it though, I should like to do you a favor to repay the kindness you did me, both in Hunsford and here. You did everything possible to make both experiences as painless as possible."

"You do not owe me anything, Colonel."

The man chuckled, and said, "Darcy said you might be stubborn."

"I see. And what did this great prognosticator of yours suggest would work?"

"He said my best tools were politeness and humility."

Elizabeth wondered if there was some sort of congenital malady among the gentlemen of her acquaintance, that caused them all to abandon the habits of a lifetime every Easter, but she thought she owed it to the man to think about it.

After a minute of thought, she said, "Well, Colonel. You can do me a small service, if you feel so inclined."

"It would be my pleasure."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and said, "You do not even know what I will ask."

The man chuckled, and said, "I have been stabbed once, and shot twice, Miss Elizabeth. I doubt very much that you will ask something that will raise to the level of being truly disagreeable."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, on your head be it, Sir. My sister Jane will be married in a couple of months. By then, your cousin Anne will have been with me in Meryton for that same period. I will see that you are invited to the wedding. Come there, and I will have two tasks for you. Is this sounding agreeable?"

"It will be my pleasure. And the tasks?"

"The first is to just be nice to Anne. I have no idea how she will be feeling by then, but I believe a familiar face might be welcome."

The man chuckled, and said, "Easily done, Miss Elizabeth. Anne is the least offensive Fitzwilliam for at least four generations. There is nothing the least bit difficult about being nice to her."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Yes, I believe that… although, I must warn you. She is a colt leaving the barn for the first time. There is no telling how she will react. She may well be married before then."

He just nodded, and said, "And the second?"

"Wear your uniform. I will introduce you to my younger sisters, which I assure you will be a trial. Your job is to convince them how utterly stupid it would be for a gentlewoman to marry an officer below the rank of Colonel."

Fitzwilliam chuckled, and said, "Below General is more like it. No sensible woman would do that. "

"My point exactly, Colonel."

"If you have no objection, I shall introduce them to a few officer's wives, and see how they like how they live. Hearing is one thing, while seeing is believing."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Thank you, Colonel. That will be most helpful."

The second bell rang indicating the curtain was about to raise, and the Colonel bowed, and said, "Consider it done, ma'am. It will be my pleasure."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "With some pleasures, Colonel, _a little goes a long way"_, then she waved Georgiana back over to their chairs, and everyone sat down to see the next act.

Although Elizabeth was dying to know exactly what Miss Darcy had to say, she judged this was neither the time nor the place, so when the play started back up, she deliberately moved the discussion back to the play itself, and the young lady went along.

Tea was certainly going to be interesting.


	37. Tea for Two

_A/N: Hey, Gang – I hope you are all staying safe. COVID is going to be around for quite some time, so do not let your guard down. I know that I'm not producing with my usual speed, but I am inching along towards the resolution. I'm at 112k words written so far, and maybe 20k to go._

_My wife and daughter and I have been binge watching our new favorite show, the Spanish series __Money Heist__ (La Casa de Papel) and it is fabulous._

_Also, my fifth-grade daughter has just entered the world of Harry Potter FF, so if you know of some good and age appropriate stories, please point them out to me with a PM or Review. The HPFF world is enormous, and no idea where to start._

_Wade _

* * *

"Miss Bennet, Welcome! Welcome!"

Elizabeth smiled at the young heiress who seemed to have transformed from the before-mirror Anne de Bourgh to the before-Collins Lydia overnight. Her curtsy reminded Elizabeth of an odd little creature she read about in New South Wales called a Kangaroo. It apparently bounded from here to there jumping as far as six feet in the air, while running faster than a horse; and Elizabeth thought young Miss Darcy was about to join them.

Elizabeth smiled and made her own bouncy little curtsy just to put the young lady at ease, and they both giggled a bit.

"I am happy to be here, Miss Darcy. I must own I have been a touch curious about your home. Thank you for inviting me."

Georgiana stepped across the several feet that separated them, lowered her voice to almost a whisper so the servants could not hear, and said, "I may have overstepped my skills, Miss Bennet. I do not know if I should treat you with the formality and propriety of a first tea with someone I barely know, or more like a friend."

Elizabeth could see that the young girl was nervous and thought to set her at ease a bit.

"Shall we not walk before we run? What would you do if I were _not _someone you were dying to have some type of private discussion about your confusing brother with?"

"I would offer you refreshment, and then try to chat about the usual subjects, followed by a tour of the house."

Elizabeth took her arm and indicated they should walk.

As they approached the parlor, she said, "Well, I tend to be a bit scatterbrained myself on occasion, Miss Darcy. Let us follow the scheme you would use for an indifferent acquaintance to start with, just so you can practice the mindless inanities that make up much of our lives."

The young lady laughed somewhat awkwardly, not certain if she was being teased or criticized, until she heard a chuckle from her older companion.

"Miss Bennet, I must confess to being nervous about the entire arrangement."

Elizabeth said, "Well, let us make it easier. I find there are two strategies for approaching discussions. The best is to try to think long, hard and carefully about your objective; and then work out the best way to achieve it. If your objective is to look 'proper' for your first visitor, that would indicate one type of behavior. If you are trying to form a friendship, that might require a different track; although it is more complicated than that, because the person you are trying to befriend might be put off if you are too energetic. And naturally, if you are trying to scare someone off, that would require an entirely different strategy. The very best thing is to think carefully about how to balance those different aspects, choose a path, and carefully navigate it whilst leaving room for improvisation."

Georgiana nodded in agreement, and said, "Well, that is certainly a sensible approach, Miss Elizabeth. It sounds complicated, but efficient. You said there are _two_ strategies you use. Might you explain the second strategy?"

"A good question, Miss Darcy. I imagine you wish to weight their relative merits and either pick one approach and use it."

"Yes."

"All right. The second strategy, which I admit I probably use more often than not, is to just say whatever pops into my head, hope it is not too terrible, then panic and say the next thing that pops into my head, all the while trying to mitigate the damage done from the first."

Both young ladies laughed heartily, and at least one of them felt quite a lot less nervous about the encounter. They had reached a small, well‑appointed parlor by then, so they entered and rang for tea.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet, might I introduce you to my companion, Mrs. Annesley."

Elizabeth smiled at the companion, and they exchanged the usual expected greetings. Mrs. Annesley looked like a very sensible woman of perhaps forty to Elizabeth, and the three of them sat down to enjoy their tea. They talked in a general way about their families for a half hour as they finished their refreshments.

Elizabeth looked around and commented, "This is a very elegant parlor, Miss Darcy. I must admit that I like it much more than most of the rooms at Rosings. It has an understated elegance that I find very attractive."

"Would you like a tour of the house?"

Elizabeth smiled and nodded. Mrs. Annesley indicated the two ladies could make their own way through the house as she went upstairs for a rest, and they went about their way.

An hour later, Elizabeth had a very good overall idea of the layout of Darcy house, and said, "Well, Miss Darcy. I can quite applaud the design and decoration of this house. Please never tell your aunt I said this, but I like this style much better. Rosings looks like it was made to impress and intimidate just about anybody, whilst this house looks like it was made to impress only people with a refined and subtle sense of taste."

"I never thought about it that way, Miss Bennet, but it does make some sense. To be honest, I always find Rosings frightening, but I suppose that has more to do with being in my aunt's presence than anything to do with the house itself."

"Yes, well the inhabitants do set the character of a house as much as the furniture."

Georgiana stopped in a music room, and said, "Miss Bennet, my brother suggested that I try to come up with a mathematical puzzle for you."

"He did, did he? Well, I am up for the challenge. Do your worst, madam."

Georgiana said, "Well, since I can see you like the furnishings and overall effect of this house, and you seem to be looking at specifically how the effects are done; can you make a reasonable estimate of the _total number of decisions_ it would take to achieve it?"

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, that is an interesting question. Let me see."

She looked around the room for quite some time, examining everything from the molding to the carpets to the drapes, muttering as she went along.

"Well, I can see just in this room that there are about two or three dozen elements that have to be done just right. Let us see. This room is one of… well, it is hard to say. Shall I make an estimate of somewhere between several hundred and one thousand decisions?"

She looked over, and noticed her new young acquaintance smirking in a most unladylike manner, much to her approval, and said, "Oh dear, I have entirely lost the scent, haven't I?"

Georgiana laughed, and said, "Well, I will boast of having stumped you. My brother claimed it was an unlikely aspiration."

Elizabeth joined her, and said, "Well, I am certain you have a very clever answer. Am I to be privileged to know what it is?"

"Exactly one!"

Elizabeth started at her for a minute, and then smiled from ear to ear and said, "Why, yes… a classic framing error, ignoring cascading results, on my part. I completely forgot about digging down to root causes, as is often done. Tell me this – was the one decision your mother or grandmother?"

Georgiana laughed, and said, "Mother! I have been told my grandmother's taste was hideous. Had you spent any time in her home you would have described Rosings as understated elegance and traveled there just to rest your weary eyes."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well played, young lady. Well played indeed. I presume you will be quite insufferable with your brother?"

"Of course, I…"

She suddenly became a bit shy at the mention of Mr. Darcy, and Elizabeth said, "Be easy, Miss Darcy. Your brother and I have a… well… complicated acquaintance, but I am not bothered by mention of him. Shall we sit?"

The ladies retired to a sofa that was as beautiful as it was elegant. Georgiana asked if Elizabeth would like refreshment, and Elizabeth declined. They sat a couple of feet apart, and Elizabeth decided it was time for the conversation.

"Now then, Miss Darcy. Do you remember the first question you asked me upon my arrival this morning?"

Trying to remember the beginning, Georgiana asked, "Whether I should treat you like an acquaintance or someone I want to be a friend?"

"Exactly! Now, I shall make it easier for you. Let us just decide right here and now that we are friends. After that, everything will become ever so much simpler."

"But you hardly know me… I mean, well… I can esteem you because I learned much about you from my brother, but you hardly know me."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, Miss Darcy. I usually rely on my first impressions, and my first impression of you was good, so we are to be friends. That is just the way it is, so there is little point arguing about it."

Georgiana smiled, and said, "Are your first impressions always right, Miss Bennet?"

"_Good heavens, No!_ In fact, my success rate is nothing to boast of. I must refine them over time, and failure to do so has caused me some grief from time to time – sometimes more than others. For example, do you know what my first impression of your brother was?"

"I would dearly like to know."

"Well…"


	38. First Impressions

Elizabeth smiled, winked, and said, "Well, let us just say his first impression was not auspicious. I spent weeks trying to come up with the exact term to describe my first impression of your brother. I went through all the usual words you might use in such a circumstance, such as haughty, proud, ill‑mannered, stuffy, awkward, cretin – you get the idea?"

Georgiana's mouth was hanging open, and she stammered a bit, and said, "What did he do?"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Oh, a capital offense, I can assure you. We were at an assembly on his first night in the county. I sat out a dance because we were short of male partners and I wanted to give others a chance on the floor. Mr. Darcy's friend, whose name is no longer spoken in my family, tried to get him to dance with me. He looked me over and said, and I quote, _'She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.'"_

Georgiana gasped in horror, but Elizabeth laughed and said, "Please do not take it too badly, Miss Darcy. I was not actually being slighted but evaluated rationally. I am aware that I'm merely tolerable. I do not mind."

Georgiana laughed, and said, "Perhaps _you _do not mind, but if he was in the house, he would feel the sharp end of my tongue. Lady Catherine would not even dare to say something so outrageous."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Bygones, Miss Darcy. Please do not bring it up with him. The incident is water under the bridge."

Georgiana smiled shyly and replied, "Well, _his _first impression seems to have been amended, as he can hardly speak of you without getting a faraway look in his eye. I can assure you that he is _very_ tempted."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I suppose that might be why you wanted to know what I had done to him?"

"Among other things."

"That was my first impression of your brother, Miss Darcy, and it did not improve in the slightest for quite some time. In fact, I honestly believed we shared a mutual antipathy right up until… well, we shall not discuss that. Let us just say it was recent."

"But your first impression _has _changed?"

Elizabeth saw the young lady watching her anxiously, and said, "Well, yes, it has. It is not my intention to tell you exactly _how _it has changed, or how it might change again in the future… but rest assured that I do hold him in _some_ esteem now."

Georgiana let out a breath she had been holding, and said, "Well, I would hope that it…"

Elizabeth leaned towards her, and said, "You hope?"

"I had hoped that there might be… more."

Elizabeth sighed and said, "Well, I will not speculate on what the future may hold. I hold him in higher esteem than I did, and we have had… some…"

Elizabeth found herself short of words, and finally said, "Well, we have had some… conflicts and miscommunications, that have been… err… somewhat resolved. Beyond that, I cannot say."

Georgiana stared down at her slippers, and then said, "I think there is something you should know, Miss Bennet. Well, two things… sort of… past and present. They may help you… to… well… to decide. You recall that when I met you, I wondered what you had done to my brother?"

"Yes, of course. I would have been shocked at the question if your cousin Anne had not asked it first. The fact that his _behavior _has changed is readily apparent."

"His behavior, you say?"

"Yes. I doubt his true nature has changed, but his behavior certainly has, and… well, I may understand him slightly better than I once did."

"Perhaps, I should tell you _what I noticed_ about him that led me to asking the question?"

"That might be helpful. I imagine you could start with the seemingly absurd time devoted to discussing _me_. Does he make a habit of discussing young ladies?"

Georgiana smiled, and shyly said, "No, never. He occasionally writes about the ladies in his company when he goes to house parties or balls, but to be honest, he puts far more feeling in discussing the drainage at Netherfield than in any interactions with ladies. You were the first and only lady he ever mentioned with anything approaching esteem. He started writing about you when you came to tend your sister."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "So, pray tell me, what else did he tell you?"

"He said you are absurdly intelligent and that you hide it well when you want to. He says that you are very good at mathematics, and that I should not be afraid to use analogies or stories with you. It seems it is best to avoid the more tedious rituals of society."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Yes, I can agree. We, both of us, need to know how to do the rituals of society with grace and aplomb, but just between us, I think I can assert that most of them are tedious and not all that complicated."

Georgiana ducked her head, and said, "Complicated or not, I need to… well… I do not _excel_ at them."

Elizabeth leaned forward and took the young lady's hand, just as she would for Charlotte or one of her sisters, and said, "Well, you have time, Miss Darcy. You must be around sixteen?"

"Yes."

"Well, your brother must be seven and twenty at least. You have eleven years to bring your social skills up to match his, and I think you can make it."

Georgiana looked shocked, but then Elizabeth winked and they both laughed together for a bit.

She finally said, "His manners did not… impress?"

"No, but… well, they do not appear to be immutable. I imagine time will tell."


	39. Milo of Croton

Georgiana sighed at the situation, and then said, "Miss Bennet, do you know of Milo of Croton?"

Smiling, Elizabeth said, "I see you are taking your brother's advice about analogies. Well, throw out your lure, young lady, and I shall bite. No, I have never heard of Milo."

"He was an ancient Greek wrestler."

"Do go on, please. This is fascinating."

Georgiana looked pleased with the response, and said, "He was reputed to be the strongest of men, something like Hercules. Legend has it that he carried a calf as a young man, and then carried it every day until he could carry a fully-grown bull."

Enjoying the story more and more, Elizabeth said, "Well, this is fascinating. I can tell what I will be doing when I get back to my father's library."

"Oh, you can read about him right here in our library."

Not quite ready for that, Elizabeth said, "Perhaps."

"Well, I suppose I should finish the story. You see, Miss Bennet, in a way, I have always felt like my brother's life was a bit like Milo's. I know it sounds a bit ridiculous, but it is just an analogy."

"I frequently use analogies, Miss Darcy, and I will concede that the fit is never perfect. Please proceed."

"Well, you see… Fitzwilliam lost his mother when he was but twelve. Then when he was twenty, he lost his father and had to take over management of the estate. He was about as old as you are now. Then he lost his long‑time steward less than six months later. Of course, he also became, along with my cousin Richard, guardian of a very young sister. A few months later, he capitulated to some nearly ceaseless nagging… can I say that word without sounding unladylike?"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Say what you wish about Lady Catherine."

Georgiana laughed, and said, "Well, I see nothing gets past you. At any rate, he decided to participate in the season, and barely escaped an organized and ruthless compromise attempt in his very first season after he inherited. He has played the fox in the marriage hunt since he came out, but the pressure doubled or trebled when he inherited. He outright refuses to go to any social function without one close male friend to guard his back."

Elizabeth looked pensive, and said, "Well, I never thought about it from that standpoint."

Georgiana stared down at her shoes, and said, "It gets worse, Miss Bennet… much worse. I would like to tell you my most shameful secret, if you are of a mind to hear it."

Elizabeth looked at her carefully, and said, "Something tells me you have a _need _to tell this secret to _someone_, and I have been elected. I do not mind. I have been told secrets before, and I keep them to myself. Something about my personality seems to encourage some sort of compulsion among people to unburden themselves."

Still unable to look her in the face, Georgiana said, "My father's steward's son was my father's godson, and he took the trouble and expense to raise and educate the boy beside my brother. He even paid for a gentleman's education and arranged for a valuable living to be granted to him."

Knowing the bare outlines of at least part of this story, Elizabeth said, "Yes, I know about that."

Georgiana assumed that somehow Elizabeth had heard it from her brother, which made her feel slightly braver.

"Well, after Father's death, the son came to my brother and claimed he did not want to be a clergyman. He asked for and was granted £3,000 in exchange for the living, as well as £1,000 that was willed to him outright. Fitzwilliam considered it a bargain because he thought too poorly of the man's character to allow him to take charge of people's spiritual needs."

Elizabeth saw the young lady was starting to shake, and said, "That clears something up for me, Miss Darcy. I am afraid that I once believed your brother had denied the living outright. I came to think better, but it is helpful to have the full story."

Shaking even more, and unable to look at her friend, Georgiana said, "Oh, you do not have the full story, Miss Bennet. Not by half."

"Are you certain you wish to tell me?"

"I am… I feel… well…"

She stumbled and mumbled a bit, and said, "Well, I have two reasons for telling you. One, I want to be your friend, and I think you need to know what kind of person you might offer the hand of friendship to."

"And the other."

"As you said, I need to tell _someone_. Nobody knows about this except Fitzwilliam and Richard, but I trust you, and I would be relieved to say the words."

Elizabeth asked carefully, "Why do you trust me, Miss Darcy? You hardly know me."

"My brother trusts you, Miss Elizabeth. He told me to trust you – implicitly. You are the _only _person, male or female that he has ever said that about."

Blushing at the compliment that had been said outside of her hearing, Elizabeth said, "Well, your brother is right… occasionally. A stopped clock is right twice a day."

Georgiana laughed well in excess of the humor of the ancient jest, and said, "Well, this can be one time. You see…"

She paused a moment, then plucked up her courage to continue.

"Fitzwilliam had no idea what to do with me, so he sent me to school, as happens for most ladies of my station. Last summer, he took me from school, and granted me a holiday in Ramsgate with a new companion."

"Generous of him… or careless. It could go either way."

Surprised at the criticism, Georgiana said, "Well, probably the latter. That same man… the steward's son…"

"You mean Mr. Wickham?"

Georgiana snapped her head around to stare at her friend.

"He has joined the militia and is stationed in Meryton near my home. He had all the ladies swooning over him for some time, but his character has recently been revealed to be lacking."

Georgiana stared down, and said, "Well, his is not the only one. He came to Ramsgate, seemingly by chance, and managed to convince me to elope with him."

Elizabeth gasped in shock, and said, "He WHAT?"

Seeing Georgiana cringe, she immediately slid across the couple of feet that separated them and wrapped her in a tight hug, feeling as if she had just slapped the poor young girl as she saw tears leaking from her eyes."

Carefully, she said, "Shh… Shh… Shh… Georgie… Georgie… that was not for you! _That was for him! _The man is an absolute scoundrel. I imagine he was after your dowry?"

Georgiana just nodded.

"Your companion! Oh, my goodness! Did he somehow corrupt her?"

Georgiana, reached around to hug her new friend, and said, "Brother said I would only have to tell you half of anything I wanted you to know."

Elizabeth squeezed, and said, "It is not an unreasonable guess, Georgie… Oh, I am sorry. You never gave me permission…"

Georgiana squeezed her, and said, "Please… No! Do not be alarmed. I like it. Nobody has ever called me that and… well, I like it. I like it very much."

"Then you shall call me Lizzy. Now, when did all of this happen? How old were you?"

Elizabeth thought she could probably guess the details but wanted her friend to get it all out.

"It happened last summer. I was fifteen. Fitzwilliam visited a week early by chance and I confessed the scheme to him, so he arranged to end it. He has been afraid to retaliate against the man because he fears for my reputation."

Elizabeth laughed and said, "Well, do not concern yourself with him. He got on the bad side of _my _fifteen-year-old sister, and I doubt he will survive unscathed."

"Do tell."

"There is nothing to tell… yet."

Georgiana grinned, once again somewhat relieved.

Elizabeth was feeling another thought storm coming but scared her young friend by gasping and smacking her forehead.

She said, "Last summer! I imagine that would mean that last Autumn…"

Georgiana carried on, "… Fitzwilliam was in a frightfully bad humor."

"I will definitely have to rethink my first impressions. So, shall we go back to Milo?"

Georgiana giggled, and said, "Well, back to Milo, and the question about what you did with my brother. You see, as I said, he has always seemed like Milo. He carries whatever there is to carry. Some would look at him and see just a rich and spoiled young man with life handed to him on a silver platter. I see a careful young man; whose decisions are responsible for the livelihood of close to 1,000 people… and he takes it _very _seriously."

Elizabeth thought about it for a bit, and said, "Well, an honorable man could not see it any differently. He expected to have years or decades to train with his father. How long did he have in the end?"

"Three months."

Elizabeth gasped, and said, "Well… hmm… Certain of his aspects now make more sense to me. But I do not believe our Milo is done yet."

Georgiana smiled, and said, "Well, imagine Milo carrying that calf, and then gradually working his way up to carrying a bull every day. What would that man be like?"

Elizabeth thought about the analogy for a while, and said, "I would imagine it is difficult to have light conversations whilst carrying a bull. Even if you can manage it, everyone you encounter will spend all their time looking at the horns."

"Exactly!"

"And, a bull is quite valuable, so I imagine if you are carrying one around all day long, you would have to worry about others trying to take it."

"Exactly!"

Getting into the spirit of the thing, she continued, "Well, a single misstep could spell disaster for both master and bull, so he would have to be _very _careful."

"Exactly!"

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, Georgie, that has actually been helpful, but something tells me you are not done."

Georgiana smiled, and said, "Well, suppose your Milo…"

Elizabeth interrupted and said, "He is not _my _Milo!"

Georgiana just laughed, and continued, ignoring the interruption.

"Suppose _your_ Milo was walking along one day, and he encountered a wise person. This person says, _'Milo, you realize if you just put that bull down on the ground, he can walk on his own, and to be honest, I am not certain you need to keep a bull with you all the time. Perhaps you might, from time to time, leave it to enjoy life among the other cattle.'_"

Elizabeth just raised an eyebrow in question, so Georgiana continued.

"Milo's bull is sitting upstairs somewhere, probably in the Mistress' Suite."

Both laughed, and she continued, "When Fitzwilliam came back from Rosings, he was like another man. He _talked _to me… not like a silly younger sister, but like a friend, like a… well, not like an adult per se, but not like a child either. He even did the best thing he has ever done."

"What is that?"

"He _chastised _me for my silliness and lack of sense last summer. It is not as if I was never taught that eloping was both wrong and incredibly stupid. I was fifteen and stupid, and he has tried for the last year to take all the responsibility on his own shoulders. _He_ should have taught me better… _He _failed to hire me a proper companion… _He _failed to bring Mr. Wickham to heel sooner… well, you get the idea. But _finally_, at long last, a few days ago, he let me have it. He chastised me within an inch of my life over my blatant stupidity, and then explained in _excruciating _detail how many things were wrong with the idea, and just how very-very-very badly my life would have been had I gone along with the scheme."

Elizabeth gasped, and said, "It sounds barbaric!"

"It was wonderful. The hardest, but most wonderful hour of my life."

"How so?"

"Because it showed me that he _respected _me enough to stop treating me like a child. I know it was a stupid thing, and he knew but would not admit it. Now, using Anne's mirror analogy, we are both looking at the same mirror and seeing the same thing."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "I may strangle your cousin over that mirror story."

Georgiana laughed, and said, "So you see, Lizzy… your Mr. Darcy is a changed man. Shall we get back to my original question?"

"Which was?"

"What in the world have you done with my brother?"

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "Are you expecting an answer?"

Georgiana leaned forward again, took her hands and said, "Actually, no! You see – that is the best part. _It does not matter! _Somehow, _you_ broke through his shell of reserve and manners and hurt and pain. Somehow you made him closer to whole. I imagine _you_ must have had a strong conversation, as that would appear to be your forte. I imagine he looked in the mirror, decided he did not like what he saw, and set about cleaning himself up to make his reflection closer to his true nature."

Elizabeth gave a small smile, and said, "I will neither confirm nor deny that Georgie. I have already violated his privacy more than I am comfortable with."

"Well, however you did it, I must say that I like it. He is like a hideous but expensive piece of jewelry that can be melted down and remade into something elegant."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "I am not certain he would appreciate _that _analogy."

"Well, it worked. He is like a new man. I should not be surprised if he ends up making you an offer."

Elizabeth saw when the young lady panicked, thinking she had gone a step too far, and replied, "Oh, he already has."

The young girl's face lit up like the sunrise, but then fell, and she said, "You must have declined. If you had an understanding you would have directed this conversation in an entirely different direction."

Elizabeth just nodded, and said, "Yes, I fear I did. It was as gentle as I could make it, but yes, I did decline."

Georgiana just looked pensive, and said, "Might I know why? Or if you declined before or after his transformation?"

"You wish to establish cause and effect?"

"Yes!"

Elizabeth thought a moment, and said, "I fear that we are intruding a bit more on your brother's business than I am comfortable with, Georgie. Let me just say that I declined because… because… well…"

She grasped for the right way to say it, and finally added, "Well, because I do not care for bulls."

* * *

_A/N: Sorry for the mini-cliffy, but that's as far as I've made it. 1-2 more chapters in this encounter._


	40. The Bull Pen

_A/N: Well, the Georgiana/Lizzy conversation is going on longer than I thought. 2 more chapters in Darcy House (I think). Here's the first._

_I'm going to try a little experiment. I have 2 twitter accounts with a _minuscule _number of followers, and you are welcome to peek at one or both if you like._

_*  JaffWadeH a new account just for JAFF. Feel free to peek if you like. I haven't tweeted much of anything yet, but it might be a good place for people to discuss my stories. We'll see._

_*  WadeHatler is my personal account, which is scientific and very political (I am a strong and unapologetic Progressive with decided opinions). At the moment it has a lot about US politics and COVID-19, but really, it has whatever I'm thinking about at the moment. It's not for everyone, but you are welcome.  
_

_Wade_

* * *

_ Elizabeth thought a moment, and said, "I fear that we are intruding a bit more  
on your brother's business than I am comfortable with, Georgie. Let me just  
say that I declined because… because… well…"_

_ She grasped for the right way to say it, and finally  
added, "Well, because I do not care for bulls."_

* * *

Georgiana laughed, and said, "Well, are you afraid of the bull's horns?"

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "No, I mostly do not care for their short temper, disagreeable nature and general unpredictability."

Both ladies chuckled a bit, not exactly sure where to take the discussion.

Finally, Elizabeth sighed somewhat louder than was her usual habit and said, "Well, Georgie… I truly hope you do not mind me calling you that."

"Of course not. It is as if we were sisters."

Georgiana looked embarrassed with the declaration, but to her credit she did not lower her eyes or cower.

Elizabeth said, "Well, perhaps it is. Is it true that you do not have any female friends or relatives your own age?"

"Yes, I am afraid it is true, and while I will not press you, I would hope that you understand having a real sister would beat having a friend who is almost like a sister."

The declaration of the young girl's dreams in plain English instead of the insinuations she had been using should have startled Elizabeth, but it did not. The young lady would either be her sister, or she would not; but Georgiana's desires would play little if any part in her decisions. The matter of the moment was to work out if either of the ladies could be of benefit to the other.

Elizabeth smiled softly, and said, "Well, sometimes sisters can be quite disagreeable, so be careful what you wish for. Do you know about my arrangement with Anne?"

Georgiana sighed, and said, "Yes, she said she is to come to stay at Longbourn and act like a long‑lost and definitely _not _wealthy friend of a distant relative. As I understand it, she is to live the life of a Bennet sister for a few months. I must confess to being somewhat jealous."

Elizabeth became quiet for a few minutes, and then said, "I would consider offering you the same thing, but I think…"

Georgiana leaned forward and said, "Brother told me you were quite the problem solver. I could not bear to _ask _you to help me, but if you happened to have a good suggestion, I would not find it amiss."

Elizabeth felt like the entire visit had been working its way up to this moment ever since she entered the house, or maybe it had been predestined ever since she left the Yellow Parlor, or maybe it had been cooking in the background since Georgiana's visit to Ramsgate.

Finally, Elizabeth said, "Well, I have no idea if I can help you or not, so let us go back to basics. My sister Mary is recently wed, and my elder sister Jane is soon to be wed. That means I _could_ bring both you and Anne to stay at Longbourn without overly stressing our resources… but…"

Georgiana looked curious, but not distressed, and said, "… but? But what, Lizzy?"

"… But I am not at all certain it is the best option for _you_. It is probably not the best for me either, but I would make a sacrifice on my part if I believed I was doing my best to help you. I am just not convinced it is the ideal solution."

"Would you mind explaining _why_?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment, because to tell the truth, she did not actually _know _why. She just had an instinct that it would be the wrong move, and now had to work it out.

"How about if we take a few minutes to refresh ourselves, Georgie, and then have some tea and some of those excellent cakes you had earlier if there are more of them. I wish to speak clearly. That means I need to _think _clearly, which means I need a few minutes of quiet reflection. Please do not take it amiss."

"Well, since you will be giving me your undivided attention, I could not imagine a possible complaint."

As specified, the ladies both went to refresh themselves while Georgiana called for tea, and they met again in the parlor a quarter‑hour later.

* * *

Elizabeth arrived at the parlor to find both Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley waiting for her. They took some tea and a bit of ordinary drawing room conversation, which was quite restful.

Curious, Elizabeth asked, "Mrs. Annesley, would you be willing to tell me your background, if it is not asking too much. How did you end up as a companion?"

The question was a bit over usual boundaries of politeness, but the companion seemed sensible and easy going. She smiled to show she was not offended, and said, "It would be my pleasure, Miss Bennet."

Mrs. Annesley put down her cup, settled herself better in her chair and began her tale.

"I was a clergyman's wife for quite some years. I married at eighteen, and never regretted it for a single moment, even the times when things were difficult. My Harold died a few years ago, but by a curious bit of luck and timing, my second son was fully prepared to take over the living straightaway. He of course wished me to live with him, as any good son would, but he was also recently married."

Elizabeth and Georgiana were paying rapt attention to the story.

Mrs. Annesley continued, "There is an old saying, _'too many cooks spoil the broth.'_ You see, a parsonage should have _one _mistress. Had my son taken a _different _living, I could have lived with him quite unobtrusively, always deferring to the home's mistress with nary a peep. With 20 years in the parish though, there was just too much history, too many memories, too many who would seek my opinion, too many chances to criticize my daughter in law and prevent her from deciding her own path. Add to that the fact that I had been _useful _all my life, and I found myself not quite ready to just do nothing. I decided to defer my retirement by taking employment. When I become feeble, or tire of my life of service, I may go back to them, but not just yet. I have too many things I wish to do."

Elizabeth said, "I can see how that might put your daughter in law in a difficult position, but not impossible."

"No, not impossible, but the early days of a marriage are difficult enough without adding more trouble. Two people marry, and they think they know all there is to know about each other; but they often find that they only know a tenth part of what they thought they knew, and half of that is wrong."

Elizabeth laughed, and replied, "Yes, I believe you may be correct. I have a friend, Charlotte Lucas who believes that, '_Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other or ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life.'"_

Georgiana stared at her and said, "Do you believe that, Mrs. Annesley?"

The lady thought a moment, and said, "It has the ring of partial truth to it. Whilst it is true that what you know is not all you _will _know; it does not necessarily mean that you know _nothing_. For a simple example, suppose you met a _very _handsome and agreeable man, well dressed, with proper manners and a handsome visage. You would be inclined towards him, no?"

Both ladies nodded rather uncomfortably, and Mrs. Annesley continued.

"Now suppose you see that same man in an alley beating a dog, spurring his horse until it bleeds, backhanding a child for no reason, or racing a horse through a village. What then?"

"I would run as fast from the cretin as I could", both ladies said more or less at the same time.

"All right suppose you see him drinking, or gambling, or stealing from a merchant. You see, these are extreme examples, but they establish the principle that you _can know something _about someone if you see how they act in unguarded moments."

Elizabeth boldly said, "I assume you know that both of us are acquainted with just such a man."

Mrs. Annesley sighed, and said, "You are young. Before you reach my age, you will become acquainted with quite a large number of them, I fear. So, as to your Miss Lucas, I would assert that she is being a bit optimistic."

Both girls nodded, and Mrs. Annesley continued.

"Having said that, there are _more subtle _indicators that could help guide you. Miss Bennet, has your opinion of Lady Catherine changed over your visit to Rosings?"

"Yes."

"For the better, or the worse?"

"Oh, definitely better."

"All right. I believe you are more analytical than the typical lady, if I have been informed correctly."

"Yes."

"So, if you had to pick _one thing _you could tell someone that changed your mind, what would it be?"

Elizabeth thought about it for quite some time, as there were a hundred different small things that had changed her opinion of the lady, even before the last meeting in the yellow parlor. At length, she said, "Cookstoves."

"How so?"

Elizabeth thought about it for a while, and said, "You see, a tenant with a new and beautiful roof visible a hundred yards away can be interpreted in several different ways. It might be a landlord treating a tenant well, or a landlord just wanting their estate to _look _good from the outside. A good stove in a kitchen that nobody but the goodwife will ever see tells quite a different story."

Mrs. Annesley smiled, and said, "Well, there you have it. Not everything is obvious, but not everything is unknowable either. You must dig if you want to approximate the truth. Imagine you could know an eighth part instead of a tenth part, or even a seventh. It does not sound like much, but…"

Both young ladies leaned forward waiting the answer, and Mrs. Annesley said, "Come, come, Miss Bennet. Just because Miss Darcy bested you on a trick question does not mean that you have abandoned mathematics altogether, does it?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment, then wagged her finger at Mrs. Annesley while smiling. She said, "Well, let us assume your assertion that half of what you know is wrong. Going from a tenth part to a seventh part is almost half again more information. A very substantial improvement."

Georgiana laughed, and said, "Yes, denominators are tricky."

Mrs. Annesley said, "So, your Miss Lucas is depending on the luck of the draw. It turns out in my experience that most men are about middling, neither excessively good nor excessively bad. That is just the law of averages, because if most men were _better _than the average man, then the average would be at a higher mark. Perhaps that might happen in our grandchildren's or great-grandchildren's time."

Elizabeth said, "Or they could just as well get worse."

"Yes, they could. They could also go in waves, getting better for a few generations and then degrading. But all that is neither here nor there. My experiences, here in England in this early part of the nineteenth century says that most men that _we are likely to meet_ lean towards the better side of average. Keep in mind that there is almost no chance that either of you will be exposed to the worst of men, or even the bottom quartile again. Miss Lucas has a better than even chance of success, but just the tiniest bit of investigation could improve her odds considerably by weeding out some of the worst options."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Yes, well she will have an entirely new environment to deal with now. I have made Lady Catherine responsible for throwing Miss Lucas into a bigger pond. Let us see if the attitude that she carried when she lived in a five-gallon bucket survives when she is in a ten-acre pond guarded by a shark."

Georgiana smiled and said, "Oh, Lizzy… Lizzy… Lizzy… You must know that sharks only live in saltwater."

All three laughed gaily and sat back in their chairs with smiles on their faces.


	41. Resilience & Imagination

_A/N: Hard to tell from the reviews if people are getting bored with these side-stories or not. A few clearly are, but views and reviews are still about average both in volume and sentiment so hard to say mathematically. Either way, if you're anxious for your E&D fix, I plan about 4-5 more chapters before they meet again. I'm not planning to dig into Anne or Charlotte's stories, and this is the last pretty long chapter for Georgiana._

_One reviewer shows me I should check with my eldest daughter on animal questions. Turns out there __are__ freshwater sharks. Who'd have thought?_

_Wade_

* * *

Elizabeth and Georgiana were both fascinated by the story, and neither were in any real hurry to pick up any more difficult conversation, so they spent a good half‑hour peppering Mrs. Annesley with questions about her life and listening to stories of her parish. She seriously thought about trying to introduce the companion to Mary as she seemed to have a fount of useful tricks the woman might be able to impart.

Georgiana asked, "Mrs. Annesley, would you say that you have seen quite a number of young ladies make the transition from childhood to adulthood."

She chuckled, and said, "Well, Miss Darcy, I would expand that considerably. I was the wife of a parson, but the daughter of a gentleman. He was a simple country squire, much like your father, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth asked curiously, "You know about my father, Mrs. Annesley? You only met me a couple of hours ago."

She chuckled, and said, "Well, Miss Elizabeth, when a statue starts talking you take note."

Both Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley watched Elizabeth in consternation, as she had been taking a cup of tea, and she ended up both spitting most of it out and laughing maniacally like a madwoman for what seemed an awfully long time. Eventually though, she managed to get herself under regulation enough to answer.

"My apologies, Mrs. Annesley and Georgie. That was, probably unexpected."

Mrs. Annesley gave her a knowing smile, while Georgiana just giggled, and said, "Well, unexpected, yes, but that might well be the second or third most amusing thing that has happened in this room in my lifetime."

"I shudder to think of what the first might be."

"At the risk of sending you off the cliff again Lizzy, I would say that the statue speaking was the first. Can you tell me about why you found it so funny?"

Elizabeth found herself in far more harmony with these two women than any other two she had ever known in her life, so she replied, "Well, I cannot… well, I mean, I will not tell you the entire story, but… well… let me tell you about the mirror and the statue."

She then proceeded to spend ten minutes talking about that exact subject as both of her companions looked on in first shock, then amusement, and then outright laughter.

Eventually, Georgiana managed to get her mirth under control and said, "Well, that presents quite an image."

Elizabeth said, "Yes, I must confess I had an image of a statue covered in bird dung speaking, and I fear it was just too much to maintain my equanimity."

Everyone smiled, and eventually Mrs. Annesley called them back to the topic at hand, saying, "The master spent some time talking about you, Miss Bennet. He of course said nothing untoward in any way. It was all quite complimentary, but… the _volume_ of information was extensive."

Elizabeth wondered what she should think about that, but eventually decided to move back to the original topic.

"So, you were saying that you have seen quite a number of ladies go through the process of growing up."

"Yes, I have, but I must correct your wording. Change 'ladies' to 'women' or perhaps 'girls' when appropriate, and you will be on the right track. I was the second daughter, last of my parent's children. I had an older brother who inherited, and an elder sister who married quite well. My father thought I was marrying down when I accepted my Harold, but I was a stubborn creature, not to be swayed by pretty words and I eventually prevailed."

"I am always happy to meet another stubborn creature, Mrs. Annesley. I imagine you must have had all the classes in your parish, and if you were as active as I surmise you were, you must have seen quite a number of transitions. Your husband and son being involved in the marrying and burying must have given you quite a vantage point."

"Yes, precisely so. I must shamefully admit that I looked down on the so-called 'lower classes' at first. I am not certain what changed my attitude. Perhaps it was the fact that Peter said,_ 'Truly I understand that God shows no partiality'_, or it was just living with people day in and day out and seeing that they were neither better nor worse than the gentry, it is hard to say. In the end, I treated them all the same, and was the better for it."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "That is admirable, Mrs. Annesley. Do you know anyone else of the gentry who does that?"

Quite to her shock, Mrs. Annesley got up from her chair, walked over to within a foot of Elizabeth, leaned down so they could look in each other's eyes, and said, "Miss Elizabeth, I understand your father is lazy but that is no excuse for you following his example. You know the answer to your question perfectly well if you simply think about it."

Not intimidated, or actually bothered in any way by Mrs. Annesley's proximity, Elizabeth thought a moment, and said, "Well, I suppose that is what a good statue should do."

"Exactly. I do not claim to know Mr. Darcy well, and I am the first to admit that he was an overly proud and dismissive man to certain classes of individuals, but I can tell you what you already know. Go talk to anyone in Lambton or Kympton, or any of his tenants or servants, and the question will answer itself."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "You are correct, Madam. I thank you for the information."

Mrs. Annesley went back to sit down, and said, "Well, our discussion is like a flooding river, ladies. It seems to meander all over the place. I believe I never quite answered whatever you were asking about young women growing up… if there was even one in the first place."

Georgiana said, "Well, I did have a question Mrs. Annesley, if you do not mind. I would ask, what is the most important thing that young ladies like myself _lack _that might make the difference between success and failure in the business of being a proper adult."

To Georgiana's surprise, the woman chuckled and said, "You wish to give up all my secrets _now_, so you have no further need for my services?"

Georgiana laughed, and said, "Of course not!"

Mrs. Annesley looked thoughtful for a few moments, and said, "Well, there are two things that I see commonly lacking in young women – resiliency and imagination."

Elizabeth leaned forward, and said, "An interesting choice, Mrs. Annesley, and I would say sound. My father has many failings as a parent, and in fact, both of my parents do, but my father did boast recently that he at least raised five resilient daughters. I cannot necessarily fault his reasoning. Whether that is the best attribute to have or not is debatable, but I do hope that I have some measure of it."

Georgiana leaned forward, and said, "I would like to be half as resilient as you, Lizzy."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Do not fret, Georgiana. You have as much as I had at sixteen. There is no big hurry."

Georgiana looked ready to argue the point, but then turned back to Mrs. Annesley and asked, "How about imagination, Mrs. Annesley? Why do you list that so prominently?"

Mrs. Annesley took one more small biscuit, reckoning that it was unlikely to either kill her or drive off a mad suitor at her age, then replied, "Well, because there are so many unknowns in life. Imagine a child who has just barely learned to count to five."

Both of her charges nodded while listening closely.

"Well, that child not only cannot count to twenty or a hundred, he cannot even _conceive _of such a number or the need to count that high. It is beyond his imagination. He does not have the basic concepts in his head, due to lack of experience. In some cases, it can even go beyond childhood. Some explorers find natives who count as one, two, three, many. That is all they know, and it is sufficient for their needs."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "Yes, I never thought about it that way, but it does make sense. I am having trouble connecting that to our situation, though."

"Well, at your age you have to make decisions that will affect your whole lives, but most young women base them on something that is akin to the child that can only count to five. There is no way you can really understand the scope and scale of a lifetime commitment. You cannot imagine what it is like to eat breakfast or share a bed with a man every day for decades."

Both ladies blushed at the direct reference, but the companion winked at them and said, "Consider that training in resiliency."

They both replaced their blushes with giggles and signaled her to continue.

"At your age you do not have the experience to know what the future holds. None of us know that in fact, but with some years you can have a better idea. You cannot understand the pain of childbirth unless you get someone to stick your hand in a blacksmith's forge. You cannot understand the unbridled joy of holding a child in your arms for the first time unless you… well, that is the case where I cannot even begin to find an analogy. You cannot understand the vicious rows that you will undoubtedly have with your husband unless you have _particularly _disagreeable siblings. You cannot understand the joy of coming together after such a huge row, unless you… well, that one I cannot think of a good example, and I _shall not _be explicit."

She paused for breath and to make sure her charges were paying attention, and added, "Returning to your Miss Lucas, you will eventually have to make a decision about how to spend your lives, without knowing _all_ or even _most_ of the facts. That is just life, but at your age, you have to make some high‑stakes decisions. You must hope for the best but prepare to do what is necessary."

Elizabeth asked, "I can well agree with you about imagination, Mrs. Annesley. I have an imaginative technique I use that is little different from daydreaming, but useful."

Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley looked carefully, and Elizabeth continued.

"I shall give you an example. I wanted to determine if I was being unfair to Mr. Darcy with my _implacable resentment_. In other words, I was being the child who could only count to five, but also insisted that five must be four because the numbers were stupid, and my numbers were better than other numbers."

Georgiana giggled, and Elizabeth continued.

"I tried an experiment Miss Lucas taught me. I imagined in my mind a particular scene, in this case a ball at Netherfield, in as much detail as I could, right down to the smell of the candles and taste of dinner. Then I replaced your brother with my sister, my sister with some poor lunkhead and so forth. I basically completely reframed the problem to see it from Mr. Darcy's point of view."

Georgiana excitedly asked, "And?"

Elizabeth sighed, "Well, your brother was mostly absolved, and I wanted to thrash my own family."

Mrs. Annesley said, "A very useful technique, Miss Bennet. Might we try something similar with Miss Darcy?"

Elizabeth expressed all the enthusiasm in the world for the scheme, while Georgiana grudgingly agreed to go along.

Mrs. Annesley said, "Well, Miss Darcy, let us do this. Lean back and close your eyes. I am told it helps."

The young lady followed the instruction.

"Now picture yourself in some future function that you consider both enjoyable and important. You might pick a ball, a house party, your wedding, being presented at court… something of that nature."

Georgiana said, "All right, I will pick a ball. Perhaps a come-out ball, or a betrothal ball for someone else, or…"

Mrs. Annesley said, "That is close enough. Now imagine what kind of lady you would like to be. Imagine a scene with you talking to friends and enemies alike – I assure you there will be few of the former and many of the latter. Imagine you handling it in the way you _would like _it to be handled. As Miss Bennet suggested, add as much detail as you can… the color of your dress, the jewels you wear, the smell of the candles, the music, the location of your brother."

Georgiana and Elizabeth sat back quietly for a few moments to let the young lady get accustomed to the idea.

Georgiana finally said, "Well, that might have been difficult yesterday, Mrs. Annesley. It seems you chose your moment well."

The companion chuckled, and said, "I usually do. Describe how you are feeling, what you are doing."

Georgiana spent a bit of time describing the ambience of the ballroom, which was surprisingly accurate when she had never been to one. Then she described several hypothetical friends. Then she described the approach and speech of someone she named 'Miss B.', whom Elizabeth assumed was obvious."

Mrs. Annesley said, "Are you comfortable?"

"Oh yes! Someone like her I just swat away like a fly."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Have you ever tried to actually kill a fly? They are tricky, and most of the time you just annoy them, and they come back."

Georgiana giggled, and said, "True, that has been my experience to date… but this is my dream, so my ball, and my reactions. I slay the dragon with the first strike."

Elizabeth laughed along with Mrs. Annesley and said, "So, how would you describe yourself in this situation."

"Well, I look like myself, but I am as fearless as Lizzy."

Both of her companions stared at her, and the younger said, "Well, this comes back to resilience, I believe."

Elizabeth asked, "How so? You managed to drag me to this house, and extract more of my private business than my sister will get in less than a day, Georgiana. What more could you possibly want?"

Georgiana sat up and opened her eyes, stared at Elizabeth and said, "You are a special case, Lizzy Bennet. Had you met me in Lambton before my statue started talking, I can assure you that you would have considered me cripplingly shy…. worse than your first impression of Anne."

Elizabeth flinched at that, since she had once thought Anne looked _'sickly and cross'. _

She said, "Well, Touché on that one. So, you think that you perhaps _lack resilience_?"

Georgiana thought about it a moment, and finally said, "Yes, that would seem to be the problem. How did you get so resilient, Lizzy?"

Not really being in a mood to tell about her childhood difficulties, and the very real possibility that many would consider her more than a touch mad, Elizabeth said, "That story is private, but perhaps I can help you with a different example. Do you know how the army turns ignorant farm boys into soldiers?"

Georgiana looked startled at the suggestion, but eventually decided that being resilient should at least include letting her best friend meander into a completely different topic. She said, "All right, Lizzy… I will bite."

Elizabeth settled in for a quick lecture, and said, "Napoleon, the Duke of Wellington and Julius Caesar used quite similar techniques, with subtle differences obviously for the thousands of years that separate them. They start with a boy, stick a heavy pack on his back and set out to march twenty miles. They do that every day, while a sergeant yells at them, about half instructions and half intimidation. They continue using various things like this, pushing the men to their limits and beyond. They make them deal with gunfire by first having them fire muskets, then have others fire over their shoulders, and eventually have others firing over their heads while they crawl through the mud. I am of course vastly oversimplifying, and any real soldier would laugh at the limits of my 'knowledge', but you get the idea."

Georgiana was staring in shock, while Mrs. Annesley was smiling gently.

Georgiana said, "Do you mean Richard did this?"

Elizabeth leaned forward and took her hands, and said, "Well, unless he was shirking, he did all of that, and then he went out to find men who were shooting at him rather than over his head, trying their best to _kill him – dead_. He has done all that and far worse."

Georgiana thought a minute, chuckled, and said, "You do not go light on your analogies, do you Lizzy?"

She smiled, and said, "I think a wise old man once said, _'excess is its own reward.'_"

"You just made that up?"

Elizabeth chuckled, and nodded.

Georgiana thought about it a minute, and eventually said, "So, facing your fears seems to be the key to conquering them?"

Mrs. Annesley said, "I believe Miss Bennet is right. Milo would be a good example. It cannot be all that much fun to carry a bull around, and we may laugh at him when he finally puts it down; but in the end, his ability to carry the bull may have been the difference between success and failure. The strong man can put the bull down anytime he wants. The weak man cannot move the bull at all, and if he happens to encounter a charging bull, will likely get trampled."

Georgiana giggled, and said, "Well, do we not all sound like a pack of hoydens with our masculine analogies."

Neither of her companions were distressed, although Mrs. Annesley thought she probably should be just to maintain the forms.

Elizabeth sat back and said, "So, Georgie… what do you think?"

Georgiana sat back and closed her eyes, but her companions could see her thinking furiously. They both jumped a bit when the young lady abruptly opened her eyes, jumped up from the sofa, and started pacing in a surprisingly accurate copy of her brother's pace. Elizabeth managed to not laugh at it, but only barely.

Georgiana said, "Well, the solution is so obvious, I have no idea why it took me so long to work it out. Lizzy, I shall not be troubling you to visit Longbourn."

Quite curious, Elizabeth asked, "I see! What will you be doing instead?"

"I am going to find someone to make me march twenty miles whilst yelling and cursing at me. I am going to go to _Rosings_, and I am going to stay there until I am no longer afraid of my Aunt Catherine. I may even impose on her to bring me out into society, since she will be doing it for your friend anyway."

Elizabeth stared at the young lady, wondering what in the world had brought on this transformation.

Mrs. Annesley said, "Miss Darcy, might I offer you two pieces of advice I got from my late husband. I am not certain where he got them."

"Of course!"

"The first is an old blacksmith's saying. _'Strike while the iron is hot.' _Your courage is just now rising to the occasion. Let us not waste it. I suggest we leave first thing in the morning."

"But I will have to write to Fitzwilliam for permission, and I have no idea where he is."

Mrs. Annesley said, "Well, that brings me to the other old saying. It may be Chinese or Arabic for all I know. It goes, _'It is easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.'_"

Georgiana stared, while Elizabeth just laughed, shook her finger at Mrs. Annesley, and said, "I like you, Mrs. Annesley. I truly do."

"So, it is settled, you will write to your brother tonight informing him of your _decision_ – regular post?"

"Of course – this is exactly what I need, and I will not be impinging on Lizzy's freedom."

Elizabeth said, "This is the I think the best plan I have ever heard, Georgie. It is perfect, and it is not as if you will lack for Bennet company. My eminently sensible sister Mary is but a lane away."

Georgiana looked at her companion, and said, "Something tells me that you are leaving something out, Lizzy."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "You used to be easier to fool."

"What is it?"

Elizabeth looked back and forth between the two, and said, "Well, I finally worked out _why _I did not want you in Hertfordshire. It all centers around a certain Mr. Wickham."

Georgiana startled, but then sat straight up again, and said, "I am not afraid of Lady Catherine… or at least, I will not be in half a year, so I need not fear him."

Elizabeth looked chagrined, and said, "Yes, I must admit that my first thoughts were to protect you, but now that I find _that _problem solved, it leaves me with another."

"Which is?"

Elizabeth could not keep her eye, and said, "When I return, I plan to _do something _about that rogue. I have no idea what it will be at present, but it will be... err… unpleasant. I would not want you there because I want room to maneuver."

Georgiana stared at her, and said, "Please tell me you do not plan anything _dangerous!_ Live ammunition metaphors and conversations with my aunt are one thing, but…"

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "No, nothing like that, Georgiana. The Romans said _'Veritas vos liberabit'_, meaning, _'the truth shall set you free'_. Unfortunately, the ancients did not mention what happened to _other people _when the truth set us free. I think a dose of truth is all that is necessary. The rest might sort itself out. Of course, all of this is presuming my sister Lydia has not already dealt with that problem, something I give a 50:50 chance."

Georgiana jumped up and down a couple of times, and said, "Well, that is it then. It is decided."

Then quite abruptly, she spun around dizzyingly fast, and said, "All right, your turn Lizzy."

Elizabeth startled, and said, "My turn?"

"Yes. Sit down, lean back and relax. It is time to exercise your imagination, since your resilience is not in question."

Elizabeth looked dubious, but eventually complied.

"Now, Lizzy, I want you to imagine yourself… no cheating by substituting yourself with someone you admire."

Elizabeth smiled, but did not say anything.

"First I need to know some adults you esteem. Would your Aunt and Uncle Gardiner do?"

"Of course. They are the couple most like I think a couple should be."

Georgiana smiled, and then continued.

"Now, I want you to be around maybe thirty or forty, rounder than you once were…"

Elizabeth said, "Since it is my imagination, can I be taller too?"

"Oh, hush! Now, imagine you are next to the fire with two or three little ones running around. You might be giving the girls a lesson in embroidery or calculus. The boy might be reading Shakespeare or chopping holes in the wall with a hatchet."

Elizabeth had to giggle, but kept her eyes closed.

"Now, I want you to hear the door opening. The children all jump up simultaneously and run towards the door yelling _'Papa! Papa! Papa!_".

Georgiana was happy to see a smile appear on her friend's face.

"I imagine your aunt and uncle are visiting, and by chance, they are closer to the door. You get up gracefully and elegantly, which naturally spills the girl's projects on the floor so the whole happy rabble of your house greets the new arrival before you even get across the parlor."

"Georgiana, this seems quite a complicated scenario."

"Quit whingeing. Now, you cross the parlor, and come around just in time to hear your uncle slap the new arrival on the shoulder. I always wanted to be around someone gregarious enough for that, and your uncle seems like a man who might do it."

Elizabeth giggled, and said, "Is this my dream or yours, Georgie."

"Oh, hush! You cross the threshold of the door just in time to hear your uncle's greeting."

Elizabeth was enjoying the game, and finally asked, "What exactly does this paragon of backslapping say, then?"

Elizabeth was a bit startled to find Georgiana's face only a foot from hers, with a big smile, and her friend said, "Well, naturally he says, _'Good to see you, Milo!'_"


	42. The Wildcard

_A/N: Coming towards the end. There are just 2 chapters before the long-awaited meeting. Anachronism warning - I'm going to use a few modern terms. Believe it or not, I haven't done so before in this story (I think). Keep in mind that when speaking about mathematics, Sir Isaac Newton's __Principia__, which is the basis for all modern calculus predated this story by 125 years. Math in 1812 was more advanced than you might think._

_Wade_

* * *

Quite to Elizabeth's surprise, two days later Jane cornered her and Anne in the parlor when nobody else was around for a serious discussion. Georgiana had arrived at Rosings, and the world had not come to an end, so Elizabeth was not inclined to worry about the young lady.

Elizabeth was not the least bit surprised that Jane had something on her mind but was somewhat surprised that her sister was allowing Anne into the discussion. She had thought the two had not warmed to each other at all; but Jane seemed to find Anne's presence desirable, or at least not something to be avoided. Elizabeth could tell from Jane's face that the discussion would be serious.

"Lizzy, I may need your help one more time."

"Only once", she queried with a smile, but Jane did not laugh along.

"Yes, this one last time. After that, I believe I shall depend on my future husband for all awkward conversations."

Elizabeth sighed, having been prepared for this.

Jane paused a few moments, and Elizabeth volunteered, "You need not articulate it, Jane. I shall see to it."

The look of relief on Jane's face was palpable, but Anne just looked confused and asked, "See to what, Lizzy?"

Jane looked to Anne and decided she could at least say the words.

"Anne, Lizzy just volunteered to have a serious and awkward discussion with my mother about my wedding. Given the chance, she will take six months to arrange, and it will be…"

She ran out of words, but Anne seemed capable of helping her along, saying, "… vulgar… expensive… overblown… prideful… reveling in her own self‑importance whilst forgetting entirely that it is _your _wedding?"

Jane stared at her, and Anne said, "It is not that much of a stretch, Jane. Your mother has more in common with mine than you might imagine. I know what you are dealing with. May I make a few suppositions?"

"Be my guest."

"By preference, you would have a quiet ceremony with just you, your betrothed and your families; perhaps your best friends and most connected families. Your mother would lease St. James if she could pull it off and try to invite the Queen. Your mother has determined that your betrothed is a man of some consequence, so she thinks excess is the order of the day… a chance for her to celebrate _her _triumph in getting a daughter well married."

Elizabeth laughed at the idea, but then stopped abruptly, not willing for _that _idea to exist unchallenged in any part of the world for long.

"Yes, Anne, you seem to understand."

Anne surprised Jane by leaving her chair to join Jane on the sofa, then she faced Jane and boldly reached for her hand and squeezed it.

Elizabeth thought that she could certainly not fault Anne for her efforts to become close to Jane and wondered if that might break through the veil of reserve Jane had been showing her new friend, which Elizabeth frankly did not understand in the least. She thought that if there were two women in the world who should be the best of friends, Anne and Jane were perfect for the role.

Anne continued, "If I am correct, you see this wedding as a celebration of Jane Bennet joining her life to a good and honorable man who will love you and your children forever. It is a celebration of two people who _were alone, _but through sheer good fortune, are now to be joined in the holiest of unions."

Jane blushed a bit but managed to nod her head.

"Your mother on the other hand, sees it as a celebration of _her success _in getting one of her daughters well married, and further securing her future. She could care less who the man is, so long as his importance is sufficient to increase _her own _consequence. She sees this whole endeavor as a chance to establish bragging and gossip rights, and she will milk the opportunity for every ounce of _her _pleasure she can get."

Jane stared at her with her jaw falling open, tried once or twice to speak and finally gave up.

Elizabeth came to her rescue, and said, "That was a brutal analysis, Anne… but I fear essentially correct, or more likely, exactly correct."

Anne nodded, and said, "Well, Lizzy, let me ask you a question if I might. This will come back to our earlier discussion of odds from before you visited my cousin Georgiana and completely reversed the natural order of things in the Darcy family."

Intrigued, Elizabeth said, "Well, that is an… interesting turn of conversation."

Anne laughed, and said, "Do not be timid, Little Frog. I will not even put you in the pot or light the fire."

Jane scrunched her forehead in confusion, but Anne patted her hands and said, "Do not be distressed, Jane. Lizzy and I are like metaphorical Amazon Warriors. We can beat a metaphor to death and then trample on the corpse with impunity."

Still looking confused, Jane finally said, "Well, if you say so, Anne. Please proceed… or shall I go have some tea whilst you torture the English Language for another fortnight before you eventually get to the point long after I quit listening."

Anne giggled a bit, and Elizabeth liked to see her true personality emerging. She wondered what would happen when they exposed Anne to Lydia. She reckoned that she could probably sell tickets to the event, but eventually decided to move her attention back to the discussion at hand.

Elizabeth said, "Please continue, Anne."

"Well, let me ask you this… and I shall insist you just _make an estimate_. I do not want you to show me your work, or explain how you came to your answer, or give me any additional lessons on mathematics, or let your mind go into thought storms, or add any excessive verbiage. Simply sit there and think until you have your best answer and give it to me."

Intrigued, Elizabeth just nodded at her friend to continue.

"Well, Lizzy, _what are the odds_ that I would have eventually escaped my mother and my situation _without your help_ in the near term – say within the year?"

Startled, Elizabeth started to speak, but Anne held up her hand, and said, "No, no, no, no, no. Please give me your answer in the correct mathematical form. Pretend you must give it to me in writing and you are incapable of writing anything but numbers."

Lizzy giggled, and said, "Is a colon acceptable?"

Anne just arched her eyebrow in acknowledgement of the jest, tempered by the assertion that it was the last bit of prevarication or cleverness she would tolerate.

Elizabeth thought for a while, and said, "Well, I should say that eventually you probably would have broken out, since there was nothing _actually _wrong with you, but with a one‑year timeframe, I would judge the odds around 2 in 10. Perhaps 3 or 4, but certainly no better than 50:50."

Anne nodded, and said, "I give it 1 in 10 myself."

Jane said, "Can the two of you follow that. You seem to be mixing notations quite a bit for no purpose whatsoever, unless confusing me is part of the scheme, in which case you have succeeded admirably."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, and said, "My apologies, Jane. Anne and I were continuing an earlier conversation. 50:50 is the odds for a coin toss. In a consistent nomenclature would be 5 in 10."

Jane nodded, not particularly interested since she considered most of what her sister and her friend said to be absolute nonsense anyway. She was anxious to get through to the result.

Anne said, "All right, Lizzy. The same conditions, but in this case, I am going to give you far more information to work with, because you will have years of empirical observation to draw on."

Jane scrunched her head again, and Anne said, "Jane, I meant that Lizzy had to guess about my chances of success with nothing but a few hours conversation and a few weeks association to go on. For my next question, she will actually know very much more because she has more experience to base her estimate on."

Jane laughed for quite some time, and said, "Pray, continue, but mathematically can you give me the optimal word multiplier the two of you aspire to. So far, I would put it at about 2.5 and I wish to judge your performance."

Anne looked confused, so Elizabeth said, "Jane means we use between double and triple the number of words required to make any particular point."

Jane added, "I could even be convinced of a number north of 5 without much effort. So far, you are between Sir William and our brother Collins before Mary got him over his nervousness."

Anne laughed, and said, "Well, that sounds about right. Should we set up a rigorous scientific experiment, or should we defer to the topic at hand."

All three ladies laughed at that, and Anne continued.

"So, here is your question, Lizzy. Based on your many years of experience, what are the odds that _you will talk to your mother _and _deliver the results_ Jane seeks in time for a suitably elegant yet simple wedding before the summer?"

Elizabeth raised one eyebrow in startled question and then thought about it for a time.

She finally said, "I should judge my chances 1 or 2 in 10. Jane's 1 in 100. My father's 1 in 1,000. Uncle Gardiner's about the same as mine, Aunt Gardiner as zero since she has too much sense to even try. Therefore, I believe the best we can hope for is 2 in 10, but I must try."

Jane looked somewhat forlorn, but then firmed up her stance, squared her shoulders and said, "Well, Lizzy. You need to work out a way to improve that, because if I do not have better odds than that, we shall be married from London. In fact, before you came back, we had just about decided on that route."

Anne squeezed her hand, and said, "I am sorry Jane. Lizzy failed to mention that she was bringing me to live in a family of ne'er-do-well quitters."

Jane gasped and stared at Anne, who found the eldest Miss Bennet's rough equivalent of a Gorgon Stare to be quite underwhelming.

Elizabeth forestalled an argument by saying, "Are you implying that we are not resilient enough, Anne?"

Anne smiled, and said, "No, Elizabeth… there is no _we _in this equation. I am implying that you are too enamored with your perceived role in the family. Remind me again, you are Mistress of…"

Elizabeth ducked her head, and replied, "…awkward conversations."

"So, your duty to your sister leads you to the inevitable conclusion that you will have to take a 1-4 in 10 chance for the favorable outcome you desire."

Elizabeth snapped her head up, and said, "Suggest an alternative."

Anne replied, "Well, let me ask a question. You have asserted that my chances of success with my mother were 1 in 10, although in fact, I believe you were estimating my own odds of even trying. Now let me ask this – _what were the chances of __you__ working on my mother successfully?"_

Elizabeth startled, having not really thought the problem through, then sat down and thought furiously for a moment before replying.

"Well, I never thought about it, but there were real and significant risks to my chosen course of action. I felt honor bound to help you, but not necessarily honor bound to do what I did. I could have simply given you my analysis and let you fend for yourself."

"And why did you not do that?"

Elizabeth thought, and said, "Well… while I did not calculate the odds per-se, I did judge that just telling you my conclusions would have very little chance of success, but if I presented it, then I judged the probability of success to be worth the risk. I would say my chances of success when I walked into Rosings were around 5-6 in 10."

Anne jumped up from the sofa next to Jane, came over to grab Elizabeth's hands and said, "All right. You are almost there. You wish to go for a ride. You are now in your best riding habit, standing on the mounting block with a handsome groom to hand you up. Make the last step."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Bad analogy, Anne. I hate riding."

Anne laughed, and said, "You want to eat dinner. Your plate is filled, your wine glass is full, and your fork is in your hand. Take the first bite."

Elizabeth was quite perplexed for just a moment and came up entirely blank. She was still thinking furiously when Jane started laughing, as she said, "Oh, trample that analogy some more, Anne. Feel free to use the despised horse for the job. This is quite entertaining."

As Jane continued laughing, Anne joined her whilst Elizabeth simply stared at both of them.

Finally, Jane could not stand it, since tears were falling from her eyes, and she said, "Ah, Lizzy, Lizzy, Lizzy. You could misplace your nose were it not attached to your face. For the smartest person I know, you can certainly be a flibbertigibbet at times."

Shaking her head, Elizabeth started to speak but Jane over spoke her.

"Lizzy, look at it this way. Rosings was a _static environment _for a decade. It was shaken up by introducing a wildcard… an outside agent, something different, no?"

Elizabeth nodded, not at all certain what Jane meant.

Jane smiled, and said, "Well, Lizzy. Unless I am very much mistaken, Anne has just volunteered to bring Mother into the fold. Anne is now officially in charge of my wedding, or at least the part that involves bringing our mother to heel, and if that is unsuccessful, she is to have the charge of _everything_. Mother has met her match!"

Elizabeth paused a minute, and then started laughing.

Sometime later, Aunt and Uncle Gardiner investigated the parlor wondering if any escapees from Bedlam were installed within; but finding nothing but the three silliest girls in England, they decided to leave well enough alone.


	43. Welcome Home

_A/N: Based on my viewer stats, I believe I can safely wish a slightly belated Happy Mother's Day to 55% of you. That's the percentage of viewers in the US, Canada and Australia where today is the day, and I think in this genre it's pretty safe to assume a pretty high percentage of you are mothers. Looks like I missed Spain by about a week, but my mother in law forgave my tardiness, and the UK by a month. _

_My daughters did an awesome breakfast and presents for my wife. It's been a great day. Not much activity to report except spending time with my wife and daughters. We're still in lockdown here in Seattle. I've worked from home off and on for decades, so it's not unusual for me to be home. My daughters are a bit antsy to see their friends at school. They've been doing distance learning which is neither all good nor all bad. COVID will have a long‑term effect on our society. It will be interesting to see what it is, but for the moment, it's still very dangerous so please try to keep yourselves safe. _

_The meeting you're all itching for is coming, but I need just a bit more preparation. Let's welcome our two young ladies back home._

_Wade _

* * *

"Lizzy, welcome home!"

Elizabeth smiled at her family who were lined up on the porch to welcome her. The greeting had come simultaneously from her sisters Lydia and Kitty, although at about half their normal volume. Elizabeth smiled in return and waited for the rest… and waited… and waited… and waited. Both Kitty and Lydia had made surprisingly proper curtsies, a major improvement on their usual sloppy efforts, and had not said a single word about gossip or presents. Neither young lady had giggled, whispered to each other, ducked her head or done any of the other things her youngest sisters would be expected to do. Elizabeth had been expecting _some _improvement in her sisters' deportment, but this was… disconcerting.

"Welcome home, Elizabeth. Welcome to Longbourn, Miss de Bourgh.", her father added to the younger girls' greetings.

"Oh, Lizzy! Where is Jane. I expected her to come home with you. Oh, how that girl vexes me. She has no compassion for my poor nerves. I have no idea what my sister has her up to in London. She has been there these four months and has not even…"

"There, there, my dear… I am certain Lizzy will tell you all about it _later!_", Mr. Bennet interrupted.

Elizabeth was glad to see that at least some part of the world still operated as it should and reckoned that she could work out the mystery of her youngest sisters at her leisure. Deciding that she could not let her younger sisters out‑manner her, she gave her own curtsy and began her introduction.

"Papa, Mama, Kitty, Lydia, might I introduce you to my particular friend, Miss Anne de Bourgh of Rosings Park in Kent. Anne, my family, Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet, Miss Katherine, though we call her 'Kitty' and Miss Lydia."

Elizabeth reckoned that the introduction was probably superfluous since Anne could probably pick her sisters out of a crowded ballroom from ten paces based only on how much Anne had asked about them on her journey. The very concept of sisters in general and Elizabeth's in particular, seemed to consume all of Anne's curiosity, and since Elizabeth had no objection to the conversation, it was quite lively.

Anne performed her own curtsy and greetings exactly as protocol demanded, down to the tiniest detail.

Mr. Bennet said, "You are welcome to our home, Miss de Bourgh. We are happy you have decided to join us, although with experience I would suspect that my second daughter gave you Hobson's Choice in the matter."

Anne laughed, and said, "Well, Lizzy was correct, Mr. Bennet, and I am delighted to meet you. I am happy to meet you all and heartened by your warm welcome."

"Correct about what, exactly", the patriarch asked out of mild curiosity.

"She said you would make an obscure literary reference within the day just to see if I could follow; or if I could not, how I would react to it. She approximated 90:10 odds of the first day, 60:40 in the first hour, and 50:50 in the first quarter hour."

The father quirked his eyebrow in question, which made Anne smile, and reply, "She said you are a studier of character, and you would want to know if I understood the reference; and if not, whether I would try to pretend I did, admit to my ignorance, pretend I did not hear you, or do something else."

"Interesting, young lady. And what is it to be?"

Anne smiled, took Lizzy's arm to walk towards the family, and said, "You shall have to await my reaction next time, Mr. Bennet. I understood that reference perfectly. It was named for a man named 'Hobson' who rented horses. You had to take either the horse closest to the door or none at all. _Hobson's choice_ basically means 'mine or nothing'. You are implying that anyone who opposed Elizabeth's will was doomed to failure – a not unnatural surmise."

Mr. Bennet chuckled, and said, "Well, I look forward to our acquaintance, Miss de Bourgh. How deep will I have to dig to stump you?"

"Let us just say, Papa, that besting Anne in obscure literary references may be even beyond your capabilities. It is certainly beyond mine. Anne has her own story that could well make an excellent novel in and of itself, but I will leave that to her to tell you or not as she chooses."

He chuckled, looked down at the ground, and said, "I must say, Lizzy, that is a very nice gauntlet. It is a shame you had to throw it in the dirt like that, but I suspect I am up to the challenge. Prepare to be flummoxed, Miss de Bourgh."

Everyone laughed except Mrs. Bennet. She refrained because she hadn't understood a single word of the exchange. The two younger sisters laughed because if both Lizzy and her father thought it was funny, it must be.

Mr. Bennet stepped back and gestured to the door to invite them all inside. In the hallway, Mrs. Hill beamed, "Welcome home, Miss Lizzy. Welcome to Longbourn, Miss de Bourgh. Am I to understand you _really_ intend to share a room with Lizzy? We do have better rooms available."

"No, Mrs. Hill, I do thank you for your concern, but if that room is good enough for Jane, well it is quite good enough for me. You see", and she leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, _"Lizzy and I have many secret affairs to discuss."_

Mrs. Hill smiled hugely, though she had enough sense not to set off Mrs. Bennet by laughing too loudly. She said, "Well, you ladies should refresh yourselves after your long journey. I shall have tea in the parlor in say a half‑hour. Would that suit Miss Lizzy?"

Elizabeth smiled, and nodded, saying, "I have no idea what we would do without you, Mrs. Hill."

"Oh hush, you. Get on with ye."

Elizabeth reached up and gave the housekeeper who had been responsible for keeping her halfway sane more than once as a child a big kiss on the cheek, then turned towards the stairs. Assuming what was good for the goose was good for the gander, Anne stepped up on tiptoes and did the same, much to the delight of Mrs. Hill, though she quickly swatted the young heiress and said, "Off with ye, Young Miss."

* * *

When Elizabeth and Anne arrived at the parlor a half‑hour later, they were surprised to find only Kitty and Lydia there.

Kitty stood, curtsied, and said, "Welcome again, Miss de Bourgh. I apologize my parents are not here to greet you. They will see you at supper."

Elizabeth was not all that surprised. It was somewhat discourteous, but not outrageously so. By her father's standards it was typical. By her mother's standards… well, Elizabeth could not work that one out at all. Anne de Bourgh was both high‑status, a potential source for gossip in general, and probably a good way to gain intelligence about her dearest Jane, and yet Mrs. Bennet had abandoned the field. It made no sense. Perhaps the lady was sitting in her room crying that there was yet one more attractive and eligible lady here to steal away all the men. Whatever the cause, Elizabeth decided not to worry about it.

Mrs. Hill came in with the tea, and Elizabeth poured for everyone while her companions engaged in the usual social inanities. Elizabeth was just waiting for the first awkward question or social faux pas, but eventually gave into her curiosity.

"Kitty, Lydia, I am curious about your…"

At that point, she stumbled to a stop trying to think of a polite way to ask the question and was gently interrupted by Lydia.

"Give up, Lizzy. You are trying to find a polite way to ask why we are acting with politeness. The very question would logically imply that we were impolite before."

Elizabeth just nodded.

Both young girls giggled just a bit, but nothing too terrible, and Kitty said, "_I win, Lydia._ I told you she would not be able to work it out."

Lydia, surprisingly, laughed, and said, "I should have known better than to bet that Lizzy can do the impossible, but all evidence seemed to indicate that the impossible for others is not quite the same for Lizzy."

Anne joined in, saying, "I am certain this makes all sorts of sense to you, but I believe your sister and I are suffering from a lack of… _context?_ Whilst I can agree that betting on Lizzy accomplishing the impossible is usually a sound strategy, I do not quite follow the rest of the conversation."

Lydia laughed, and said, "Oh, I think we are going to get along very well, Miss de Bourgh. I shall explain."

She leaned towards Elizabeth and said, "Well, Lizzy. As you can plainly see, we are trying to learn proper decorum. What is the old saying, _'better late than never'?_"

Turning back towards Anne, and said, "I am certain Lizzy would not speak disparagingly about her sisters to you Anne… Oh my!"

Elizabeth was astounded to see a look of embarrassment appear on Lydia's face, and both her and Kitty stared at their shoes. She could not at all work out what her sister had to be embarrassed about, nor was she even aware either sister was even capable of the emotion.

Fortunately, Anne was not the least bit confused, and said, "It is all right, Miss Lydia. I will be in this house for some time and hope to be as close as can be. I give you leave to call me Anne, and I would respectfully ask the same favor in return."

Lydia smiled, and both girls said somewhat at the same time, "It would be our privilege."

Elizabeth was still looking perplexed, especially seeing Lydia Bennet embarrassed by such a tiny niggling propriety violation.

Seeing her confusion, Anne continued, "Perhaps you were trying to _politely_ say that while your sister is surprised that your manners have improved, to a degree that Lizzy finds startling?"

Lydia giggled much too exuberantly, and said, "Well, since we were practically savages when she left, I imagine the… Oh, Kitty, what is the mathematical term we are seeking?"

Kitty and Lydia both looked at each other, and then at the same time said, "Ah, Delta!"

Anne looked perplexed, and Kitty said, "Lizzy loves to talk in mathematical terms, so Lydia and I thought we would try to speak her language. Delta is the fourth letter of the Greek alphabet, and it looks like a triangle. It means the _change_ from before some event to after. The _increment _seems unreasonable to Lizzy, so her mind is busily searching for a potential explanation. Is that not right, Lizzy?"

Kitty punctuated the question by giving her sister the traditional kick in the foot, and Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Well, Sisters, you do know that finding the best way to say something _in your listeners preferred frame of reference _is the _absolute height_ of good manners?"

To her surprise, both sisters beamed at the compliment, which was yet another unexpected development.

Elizabeth leaned forward, and said, "I applaud your improved decorum, but please tell me you have not snuffed out your liveliness in the process. It is easy to overshoot."

"Oh, we are still a work in progress, Lizzy, but you no longer need worry about us. We will be fine", said Kitty.

Lydia added, "Yes, Lizzy… You and Jane no longer need tutor us. Our governess has us well in hand."

For the second time that week, Elizabeth was drinking from her teacup at the exact wrong time, but at least this time she did not spit anything all over the tray.

She timidly asked, "Governess? Since when, exactly, have you had a governess?"

"Oh, a week… perhaps ten days."

Looking perplexed, Elizabeth asked, "Papa never mentioned his intention to engage a governess."

Kitty said, "Well, as you say, Lizzy, he is just indolent. He has yet to say a single word on the subject. From his actions it would be difficult to discern that he has engaged anyone at all."

"So how do you come to have a governess?"

Lydia said, "Well the lady arrived a bit over a week ago. Mama did not seem to expect her, but she was having a fit of nerves that day anyway, so it was to be expected. She talked to Mrs. Hill and was assigned to Mary's old room for the time being. Papa did not even deign to welcome her to the house, so it was just us and Mrs. Hill."

Elizabeth's ire started rising, but Kitty, having seen the signs many times put her hand on her arm and said, "Be easy, Lizzy. All is well. Lydia and I managed to take care of everything."

Lydia said, "We were ever so curious about her, and then she sought us out to ask if we might show her to the pianoforte so she could practice."

Kitty giggled a bit, and said, "Well, Lydia lost out to her curiosity, and asked, _'Are you to be our governess?'_", since that was the only reason that we could think of for her to be there.

Elizabeth was enjoying the story, and asked, "What did she say?"

Lydia looked a bit chagrinned, and said, "Well, just before that, we had a bit of a dispute over something or other, and it had been a bit…"

"You need not describe it in detail, Lydia."

"Well, I shan't then. She had obviously heard our argument, so she looked at us like naughty children but did not comment. Instead, she asked, _'Do you need a governess?'_"

Elizabeth was leaning forward on her seat by that time, and asked, "And?"

Lydia looked at Kitty, and said, "Well, Kitty was very brave. She said, _'Well, unless you are stone deaf, you know perfectly well we do!'_"

Elizabeth gasped in shock, but both of her younger sisters were back to smiling.

Kitty said, "And then she said, _'Well then, I suppose I am. I am Mrs. Jenkinson. Shall we begin?"_

Elizabeth and Anne startled at the name, and Anne asked, "Mrs. Jenkinson is your governess?"

Much to her surprise, Lydia jumped up and down in her seat like a child before catching herself, and said, "Yes, and it is working out ever so well. She knows everything! She is going to make proper ladies out of us."

Elizabeth looked at Anne curiously, but Anne just smiled, and said, "I happen to know the woman, and I can assure you, she is just what you need."

Lydia asked, "How do you know her, Anne?"

Elizabeth watched curiously to see how Anne would handle the awkward situation. Both Anne and Lizzy felt terribly guilty that they had not thought of Anne's companion at all in the rush of the new adventure, beyond assuming Lady Catherine would treat her well and either keep her on at Rosings, find her another position or offer her a pension. It had never occurred to either of them that she would just send the companion to Longbourn without an escort or an introduction. It was just not done.

Anne said, "She was my companion for some time."

"Am I interrupting?"

Elizabeth looked over to the door to see Mrs. Jenkinson entering the parlor, looking as calm and collected as… well, to be truthful, she looked as calm and collected as she had every single time Elizabeth had seen her. Elizabeth had never talked to her very much and did not have much to go on.

Anne said, "Never, Mrs. Jenkinson. I apologize for not finding you straightaway. I was unaware you were in residence until your young charges here told me the story. Please join us. Might I call for more tea?"

Mrs. Jenkinson sat down but declined refreshment.

Anne said, "I am so happy to see you here. Are you finding your charges agreeable, and your duties to your liking?"

Kitty and Lydia were looking back and forth between them, while Mrs. Jenkinson said, "I am quite satisfied with my present duties, Miss de Bourgh. It may take some time, but success is assured."

Anne got the subtle message that it was not entirely necessary to acquaint the younger Bennet sisters with all the particulars. Mrs. Jenkinson and Anne had been on a given name basis for years, so the companion was showing that she would defer to Anne's judgement, but was not in the least unhappy with the way it worked out. She would explain it all to Lizzy later, and talk to her companion later as well. For the moment, things seemed to be going well.

Elizabeth said, "Well, I am happy to see you again, Mrs. Jenkinson. I hope you have a strong constitution with these two."

Kitty and Lydia giggled.

Mrs. Jenkinson said, "Strong as an Ox, Miss Bennet. These two would not even make it into the top quartile."

Lydia looked perplexed, so Elizabeth explained carefully.

"A quartile is a quarter of an ordered set, Lydia. Suppose you take 100 naughty girls, and line them up by relative levels of naughtiness. The first twenty-five naughtiest would be the top quartile."

Not to be outdone, Lydia said, "Oh, we shall fall into the top quartile when you sort by angelicness… is that even a word?"

Everyone was laughing when Mr. Bennet poked his head into the door and asked how everyone was getting along.

Lydia said, "We have been studying mathematics and deportment, Papa."

The father just scratched his head in confusion, concluded (probably correctly) that he would never understand women, and retreated to his bookroom, where arguments were rare, since most of his opponents had been dead for centuries.


	44. The Null Assertion

"Lizzy, you seem to have completely upset the natural order of things, based on the well‑known natural Equations of Family Dynamics", Mr. Bennet said when Elizabeth went to visit him in his cave later in the day.

Elizabeth had spent quite a bit of time and thought trying to work out exactly how she was going to deal with her father after the debacle of the previous few months. On the one hand, it was obvious that her parents had not really done the duty of parenting very well. On the other hand, things seemed like they were working out as they should anyway. Elizabeth could feel the start of a breeze that could precede a thought storm and decided she could think about it more later. For the moment, it was time to just trim her sails, talk to the man, and see what happened.

"Your query lacks specificity, Sir. There are any number of supposed 'equations' to govern family dynamics, so I cannot possibly comment on your assertion without some qualifying details."

Mr. Bennet chuckled, and said, "I may have left you in the company of overly verbose people too long, Elizabeth. You could perfectly well have said that with half as many words."

"And you could have omitted that sentence altogether, since it lengthened what, by your estimate, was an overly long discourse by 214%."

Mr. Bennet laughed jovially, and said, "Well played, young lady. Well played. Is there any point in counting the words in my memory and checking your arithmetic?"

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "As much point as talking to Mama about the entail."

"Point taken, Lizzy. Shall we get back to the question at hand?"

"If you like."

"Well, the generally accepted rule for families is that as daughters are married, the number of females living under the household _decreases_, this skewing the male to female ratio gradually towards unity. Now, I see I have one daughter married, and yet I now have _seven_ women under my protection instead of six, an increase of 16%. I suppose I will find out if it is linear, additive or conditional when Jane's gentleman finally works up his nerve to get to the point… if it ever happens at all, that is."

Elizabeth countered with, "Well, the _other _well‑known rule of family dynamics is that the total level of _whingeing_ in a household should _decrease _as the daughters are married, and yet I see quite a dramatic _increase _here in my first foray back into family discourse."

Bennet chuckled, and said, "Touché, my dear. It would seem there is little point in battles of wits with you."

"Indeed!"

Elizabeth was actually somewhat happy with the banter. She had been quite on edge with her father before her visit to Mary, and she feared that it would be a permanent condition. She was still not precisely _happy _with the man, but she was _less unhappy _with him, which was sufficient for the moment.

Mr. Bennet continued, "Well, I am interested in one thing, Lizzy. Is Mrs. Jenkinson Miss de Bourgh's companion or an unexpected governess for my two youngest?"

"Yes."

"You do realize that was an either/or question, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Yes, but you are assuming the choices are mutually exclusive. I must admit that I did not take Mrs. Jenkinson's measure properly at Rosings, mostly due to my own pride and misplaced faith in first impressions. I now believe she could fulfill both roles, and even bring Mama into line if she should so choose."

Bennet chuckled, and said, "Well, I would pay good money to see that."

Elizabeth wondered, if he was so willing to spend money to see her mother improved, why he was _not_ willing to spend time and effort in the same pursuit but saw little profit in that line of discourse.

"Well, it turns out that Mama has her own new nemesis, so Mrs. Jenkinson will be spared that duty, but that does bring up a question. I confess that when I absconded with Anne, I did not give a single though to her companion, much to my discredit. I have apologized to her, but she is not very receptive, asserting no wrong was committed. I do wonder though. I assume Lady Catherine is paying her wages and perhaps sending you some sort of stipend for her upkeep. Is that true, or will I need to write to her to straighten it out?"

"So, you are in charge of all of Lady Catherine's financial affairs, are you?"

Elizabeth looked down in some embarrassment, but then said, "Much has happened of which you are not aware, but, no, I am in no way in charge of Lady Catherine."

"So, she just decided, arbitrarily, unilaterally, and very suddenly, to send her daughter here in exchange for Charlotte Lucas, eh? Her knowledge of Hertfordshire society must be lacking, since she could not even work out that Miss Lucas does _not _live at Longbourn."

Elizabeth was not sure if she was liking the teasing or hating it, but she decided to say as much as she could anyway.

"No, that was my idea, so you may blame me if you like. The story is long and complicated and… private."

Bennet leaned back and said, "Well, do not concern yourself, Lizzy. I have no need to delve into your private affairs, let alone two ladies so wholly unconnected to me. I imagine I should set your mind at rest vis-à-vis Mrs. Jenkinson's expense. Lady Catherine may well have taken care of the matter, but even if she had not, your Mr. Darcy spoke with Mrs. Jenkinson to insure she is satisfied. He offered her a pension and cottage at Pemberley if she liked, and she apparently told him she would be willing to start practicing for being dead when she got closer to the actual event. He seemed satisfied with her answer."

Elizabeth did not gasp, since the smirk on her father's face told her that was what he was aiming for, but she did answer quite sharply, "He is _not 'my Mr. Darcy'_, and what was he even doing here?", while trying her best to maintain an even keel.

Her father leaned back in his chair, seemingly searching for the right words, and finally said, "Well, Elizabeth, you have only given half of the traditional answer. I will trouble you for the missing assertion."

With the sentence being too convoluted for even her to follow, she said, "Missing assertion? Perhaps we should switch to English, Sir, as I have no idea what you mean."

Bennet smirked, and said, "Come, come now, Lizzy! You know full well what I mean. For _months_, everyone felt the need to tease you about him, right from that first _'not handsome enough' _comment at that blasted assembly. Your response was invariably, _'He is not my Mr. Darcy, __and never will be__'_. You might vary it somewhat by adding words like 'most assuredly' or 'certainly', or occasionally elaborating with an impression of his haughty manner; but the basic syntax of the assertion was unvarying aside from the extra adverbs. Now, I find you have cut the reply in half."

"Perhaps I grow tired of the repetition, since it has all been said so many times before."

"Or perhaps you are not so confident in the second assertion? I know you, Lizzy. You are a terrible liar, but an excellent prevaricator. Let us save ourselves some tedious attempts to pry it out of you. Simply tell me that _'he never will be'_ and I will accept your word at face value."

Elizabeth stared at him in anger and frustration for quite some time, although she really did not know exactly what she was angry and frustrated about, while her father picked up his pipe, and proceeded to clean the burned tobacco out of it.

Finally, Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I cannot."

Her father paused in his cleaning, nodded, and said, "Well Lizzy, that is good. The man does improve on acquaintance and I would hate to see your general mulishness extend to condemning him forever over a month's worth of bad manners. He may not be yours now, but it is not beyond the realm of possibility that he _could be._"

Elizabeth nodded, but her father continued.

"Tell me, something Elizabeth. Do you and Mr. Darcy have any sort of _understanding _of any kind?"

Elizabeth did blush at that slightly, but answered tolerably well, "No, we most emphatically do not. Does that satisfy your thirst for adverbs?"

"Quite!"

Elizabeth continued quietly, "We do have a mutually understood future confluence of schedules, but that is all."

Bennet nodded a few times, and said, "Again, in English, if you please."

Elizabeth sighed in frustration, and said, "We mutually understand that we will both be present at the monthly assembly in October. I do not expect to see him before that. I have agreed to reserve him one set."

Bennet chuckled, and said, "So apparently you _are__ handsome enough to tempt him?_"

Not to be taken in by such easy bait, Elizabeth simply said, "Apparently. Now, if you please, might you answer my second question, or did you think I would forget?"

Bennet chuckled, and continued cleaning his pipe, while saying, "Well, he was in Hertfordshire ostensibly on 'business', though whether it was 'urgent' or not is a matter of conjecture. Supposedly, he was here to look after Netherfield as a favor to that gentleman whose name is no longer tolerated in these parts. He looked in on the tenants, ordered some repairs to the house, oversaw the replacement of some of the servants, that sort of thing."

Feeling curious, despite her general annoyance with her father, and to be honest, with Mr. Darcy as well, Elizabeth asked, "You used both 'ostensibly' and 'supposedly' in one breath, Papa. Are you implying that Mr. Darcy was her for some _other_ purpose?"

The gentleman, having finally cleaned his pipe to his satisfaction, reached for a pouch of tobacco, and said, "Did I ever tell you about my boyhood friends, Evan and Cecil?"

"Is this a distraction, or a way to answer the question?"

Bennet chuckled, and said, "Lizzy, whilst I may not be the best parent in the world, would you at least allow me enough understanding of my daughter to be aware of the folly of distraction. You are like a dog with a bone. No amount of distraction has worked in the past, so you may assume I know the futility of such an endeavor. Furthermore, since we both know it will not work, there is not even much amusement to be had."

"Fair enough, Father. So, tell me about the infamous James and Cecil."

Bennet noticed that he had moved from 'Papa' to 'Father' over the previous months, but he thought there was little profit in saying anything about it, so he carried on.

"They were the quintessential wild boys, always daring each other to bigger and bigger feats of daring do. It came to a head one day when Evan threw down the gauntlet about swimming across a particularly nasty stretch of the river. Cecil was not one to stand down to any challenge, so he took it on."

"And."

"And, he nearly drowned. He got caught in some rapids, ended up a mile downstream, waterlogged, with a broken arm and nearly dead. He then caught a fever and took to his bed for a fortnight of near‑death entertainment. He eventually survived, but it was a very near thing."

Perplexed, Elizabeth asked, "And this applies to my Mr. Darcy how?"

Bennet wondered if the 'my' was a slip of the tongue or a deliberate provocation but decided to ignore it for the moment.

"Well, Cecil did eventually recover, and Even carried around a look of almost desperate contrition for quite some time. Your Mr. Darcy reminds me of Evan. I could hardly recognize the man. He was here for just over a week. During that time, he was unfailingly polite to everyone. He stayed at Netherfield but dined with some family or other every night. I should say he paid back every debt of civility in the neighborhood with interest. He was quite the favorite. He was even polite to your mother for the entire course of an evening, simply deflecting every matrimonial question like a skilled matador."

Elizabeth sat back, somewhat stunned by the explanation. She had expected the man to do – something – though she had no idea what exactly. Coming to Meryton and repairing his reputation was not among the possibilities she had considered, and she was at a bit of a loss to decide whether she was impressed with his efforts or annoyed.

Somewhat shakily, she said, "Did he offer any explanation for this change?"

Bennet was by then finished filling his pipe, so he delayed an answer by walking over to the fire for a brand to light it.

Elizabeth understood perfectly that he was being deliberately provocative, so waited patiently.

Bennet came back with the pipe in full bloom, and said, "Several people asked him that exact question, and he simply said that he looked in the mirror one day and realized he had not acted as a gentleman should. He came back to make amends to the neighborhood."

Elizabeth tried her best not to react, but her father saw her flush a bit and look down, so he suspected something was afoot.

"So, tell me, Lizzy. I find the temporal proximity of all these events to be too convenient to be coincidence. He was in your company for some time in Kent, and the next thing I know, he is here being amiable. I suspect the man is softening up the ground for an invasion of some sort."

Elizabeth chuckled at the crude analogy, but said, "Well…"

Bennet waited patiently, and she finally continued.

"I have come to know Mr. Darcy better, and him me. Let us just say that we understand each other better than we did and leave it at that."

Bennet drew on the pipe a few puffs, and then said, "I did ask him something, Lizzy. He came by for a few games of chess. I must say he thrashed me within an inch of my life. He is almost as good as you."

"Well, I am only so good because the precision of the game calms me. My skill is no great testament to my personality."

"Be that as it may, Lizzy, he will be a formidable opponent next time you engage him."

"What makes you so sure that there will be a next time?"

Bennet drew a few more puffs, and said, "As I said, daughter, you may have leave to chastise me for my actions all your life, but I would at least like to be acknowledged as not being entirely bereft of understanding. I can tell that _something _occurred between the two of you. Now, you are a woman grown so I will not pry or demand an explanation, but please do not pretend I am stupid."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "So what did the man say that has you so convinced of your belief?"

Bennet took a few more puffs, and then said, "Well, have no fear that he said anything that would sully your reputation, or make gossip or expectations. He was very careful about all that he had to say in company. He was very careful to apportion his time evenly between all the families, not showing the slightest preference or avoidance. By the time he left, he had convinced everyone to accept whatever explanations they deigned to dream up. Most assumed a relative, such as his uncle, called him on the carpet. He allowed that thought to flower unopposed."

"I see."

Bennet fiddled with a book on his desk for a moment, and then said, "I did ask him about that one day to try to distract him during a game. I asked him why he had not seen whatever it was he saw in the mirror before. Have you any idea what he said?"

"No, but I am assured you will tell me… eventually."

The father chuckled and said, "Well, yes, yes… He said that _'some mirrors are better than others'._"

Somewhat nervously, Elizabeth replied, "I see."

"I asked him to elaborate, and he simply said that he had recently found a much more effective mirror than any he had used in the past."

With a worried frown, Elizabeth asked, "Did he mention anything else about this mirror."

"No, not a thing… except…"

"… except – except _what_, Father?"

"Well, he would not say anything about the mirror aside from its dimensions. He said a proper mirror should be about five feet high."

Elizabeth coughed a few times, but then had to join her father in laughing. She found that she could now add exasperation to the list of emotions the Derbyshire gentleman was creating.

Bennet slowly lost his mirth, and said, "So, Elizabeth… Is there anything I should know about your Derbyshire gentleman aside from the fact that I will most likely be dragged by force to an assembly in October?"

"No, Papa… there is nothing more at the present time."

Bennet noticed the softening of her language, along with the hedge of 'at the present time', but mostly he thought he saw a sort of look on his daughter's face, that was both thoughtful and wistful. He thought there was unlikely to be any profit in more discussion of Mr. Darcy, but perhaps other topics might not be amiss.


	45. A Woman Grown

_A/N: Hey gang, we're starting to wind down in Longbourn, but I found that Elizabeth had quite a bit more to say to her father. I think 2 more Longbourn chapters, one or two of travel, and then… well, we'll see._

_Wade_

* * *

Moving away from the subject of Mr. Darcy for the moment, Mr. Bennet asked, "Well, Elizabeth, how shall we comport ourselves now that you are a woman grown?"

Elizabeth felt like the entire conversation had shifted under her feet without her being aware, and she was not convinced she liked the new direction. However, she was not about to back down.

"What do you mean, Father?"

Bennet surprised her by walking to his liquor cabinet to fetch a bottle of claret and returning with _two glasses_. He sat and poured for both while Elizabeth looked on in surprise.

Once he had his glass in hand, he tipped his glass towards his surprised daughter, who followed suit. They clinked glasses, said, "Salut", and drank. Both drank small sips. It was not Elizabeth's first taste of claret, but it was the first time her father had shared a glass as if she were an adult.

Bennet began, "Well, let us start with the obvious. You, single‑handedly have completely upended the life of the Bennet family since that ball at Netherfield. There is almost _nothing_ that is the same as it was before that."

Elizabeth quickly said, "You overly generalize by saying I have done so."

"All right, _Miss Logic and Reason_. Tell me _one _significant change that you have had _no hand _in, and I shall concede your point."

Not thinking, Elizabeth snapped, "You are as bad as Mr. Darcy. He made a similar demand, thought for a somewhat different question."

"I see… I see… And so, you are having conversations with the gentleman with _that_ level of discourse, and yet you are still – what did you call it – ah, yes… friends."

"Yes, Father. We are friends, and I am no more inclined to predict any potential future state than I was five minutes ago."

Bennet leaned forward in emphasis, and said, "So, let me show myself to be as occasionally implacable as your Mr. Darcy. Can you give me any _evidence _that can contradict my emerging theory that _you _are now more the head of this family than I am – at least vis-à-vis measurable effect on our family's life?"

Elizabeth fumed for a minute or so, and finally admitted, "I cannot."

Mr. Bennet sighed, and said, "Well, thank you for acknowledging that I have _some _understanding. Let me continue to expound on that point. You, your sisters and your new brother are all of the opinion that your mother and I have done a poor job of parenting, is that not correct?"

Elizabeth was still fuming and fighting the desire to either lash out or collapse in on herself, but she rallied, tucked her head down in attention and thought about the question for a while.

At length, she said, "Well, you are correct that the opinion is widespread, though not universal. I can see Jane's point, I can see the… err… well, obvious defects in our family, but I am…"

Being forced to think and say what she thought before she was fully prepared, she stopped to think for a moment more, and even bought some time by taking another sip of claret. The silence was interrupted by her father.

"Well, not universal, but near enough. Let me ask you something, Elizabeth, but first may I preface it with the disclaimer that I may well be one of those that _agrees _with the sentiment, if I were to look at it objectively."

Surprised, Elizabeth stared at him and said, "Agrees! What can you possibly mean?"

"Yes, but keep in mind the qualifier. I said I _might _agree. That is not the same as a firm declaration, simply an admission of flexibility in the matter."

Elizabeth stared, and said, "_How_ likely?"

Bennet chuckled, and said, "Ah, you and your mathematics. I cannot say with any precision, Elizabeth. Let us just discuss it rationally. No need to put the cart before the horse, or the conclusion before the discussion."

"All right, I will accept your qualification, if you accept the caveat that _I _am the most likely holdout. I am not convinced I share the otherwise mostly universal disapproval. I believe it is more complicated than that. I also suspect Lydia and Kitty will come around sooner or later, since they have had a tremendously easy childhood."

Bennet nodded, and said, "Well, I do thank you for that, thought I may have to sway you to my way of thinking. Is your opinion immutable?"

"No, Father, I try to never cast my opinions in stone. Just casting them in ice gets me in trouble nine times out of ten – or even just pudding for that matter."

Bennet chuckled, and said, "Well, let us try a thought experiment, Elizabeth. I believe you have been doing quite a bit of that lately."

Elizabeth looked at him in perplexity, and her father said, "Do not fear, Elizabeth. I have not encountered anybody with a loose tongue. I have simply surmised the fact, and you just confirmed it. May I presume there is no need for me to tediously go through the logic when you will figure it out for yourself anyway?"

"No, Father, there is no need."

"All right. So, here is my thought. Let us suppose that you had some number of children. Assume nearly infinite wealth, which might not be as far fetched as you might think."

Elizabeth snapped, "Either discuss or tease, Father. Make up your mind."

Bennet chuckled, and said, "My apologies. Where were we? Let us suppose that you were preternaturally afraid for the safety of your children, so you decided to not expose them to any danger. You have two nursemaids for each, one governess per child and a footman standing guard every minute of the day. Girls are not allowed to jump, skip, swim, climb trees or anything else remotely amusing or dangerous. Boys cannot ride, shoot, swim, skate or go out in boats. None are allowed out of the house if it is snowing or raining, or even likely to do so within the fortnight. What would you end up with?"

Elizabeth just shook her head in complete perplexity, and said, "Well, I assume you would raise the most timid and worthless children that ever lived. None of them would know how to do _anything_, and the first cold that came through the house would most likely wipe them out. Should they manage to survive, they would have no…"

She stopped in the middle, guessing where the discussion was going, and took up the tale herself, continuing where her father left off.

"… no resiliency. No Character. No real strength. To be honest, you have something close to a real example of that right her in Longbourn."

Bennet scrunched his eyes in query, and Elizabeth said, "Anne was sickly for years, and she never managed to escape Rosings until a fortnight ago. She has no accomplishments except a knowledge of literature that will put you to shame."

"Aha – that makes some sense. Carry on, Madam, since you know where I am going better than I do."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Suppose we took the opposite tack. All children had to sleep with a thin blanket in the stables, or with the pigs if they were naughty or the moon was new. They are fed only gruel unless they can prove some contest of prodigious strength. Their parents never lift a finger except to criticize or meet out punishment. Any trouble they get into with the villagers or schoolmates are considered theirs to solve. They spend all day every day in grueling training for a life of toil and hardship."

Bennet nodded and said, "Yes… I may be wrong, but you may well have just described your brother Collins' upbringing, or near enough to it. His father was an illiterate savage."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrow in surprise, but Bennet said, "Woman grown, Elizabeth. You are not going to get all missish on me, are you?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "No, I suppose not. Shall we continue."

"Yes. In that case, you would end up with either a completely broken person, or someone tough as nails that could withstand anything. If their spirt was not completely broken, they could stand up to anyone and everyone. No problem would be too large for them to tackle it. Any opponent would either come to heel or be smote."

Elizabeth said, "Yes, I suspect mathematically, you would get some reasonable distribution between dead or broken children and implacable warriors."

Bennet nodded, and said, "Exactly. I will leave it as an exercise for the student to find an example closer to that than poor William. He had a difficult upbringing, but with an unreasonable and ignorant father. Suppose the same idea was applied, but with a father who _needs _his son to be strong enough to carry the weight of 600 years of the past and centuries yet to come? No sleeping in the stables or the pigs, but a long childhood of lessons and duty."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, you would end up with a man who would not find the daughter of a country squire handsome enough to tempt him."

"Exactly!"

Bennet saw that Elizabeth had gradually finished her claret, so while he was speaking, he went back to the cabinet for brandy.

Elizabeth's eyes raised in alarm, but her father said, "Come, come, Elizabeth. If I am to be 'Father' then you are to be 'Elizabeth', and you will drink brandy with me."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Why do I get the feeling that you are trying to get me into my cups for some nefarious purpose."

"Perhaps I am, but that is neither here nor there. Let us make a scale between those extremes. Where would you put _my parenting style_. Let us disregard how well or poorly I performed _my duty to my family _vis-à-vis dowries and the like. Let us just speak about the rest."

Elizabeth took a sip of the brandy, grimaced, and said, "Well, if we made a scale from say 0 to 100, I would say Anne would be around 20 or 30. Poor William probably hit 80, Mr. Darcy probably 70, the Lucases perhaps 50 and you would in the range of 60-70. You were harsh enough with Jane and I, yet not cruel about it. You got lazy with the youngers, but I suppose you could argue that training Jane and I to act in your stead constituted success. Your indolence forced Jane and I to group up as quickly as we could, although she obviously had the advantage. Jane has been doing half to two thirds of Mama's duties since she was ten, and I joined when I left my savage period. We are all fairly resilient, so I suppose the result speaks for itself."

Bennet nodded, and said, "Well done, Elizabeth. It is entirely too bad women cannot run for Parliament. You would thoroughly dominate the place. You can rationalize with the best, and I doubt very much that _anybody_ enters one of your awkward conversations and emerges on the other side anywhere except where you put them. You are too generous with me, but I will just chalk that up to your nature."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "So, what conclusion does that leave us with, _Papa!_"

Bennet just laughed, and said, "Too late, Elizabeth. You cannot stuff the chick back into the egg. Let me set your mind at rest. If you will give me leave to allow my own opinion in my own head, then I will assert that your mother and I _are in fact bad parents._ It was luck or happenstance that allowed all you children all to come out all right, but it could just as easily have gone the wrong way. Suppose Lydia had not worked out that Wickham was a scoundrel, purely by luck. I had taught her so poorly; she might well have ruined the family whilst I sat here smoking my pipe. She and Kitty were certainly headed in that direction. In the end, I suspect Madeline Gardiner and Charlotte Lucas are more responsible for the current robust state of our family than I am. That is as it is."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, I prefer to think better of you. I cannot rationally say whether that is a logical assessment, or just my need to put away my childish things. I suspect every adult can come up with a hundred things to complain about in their upbringing, but if you do not put all of that behind you, then I would suspect you spend the rest of your life looking backward instead of forward."

Bennet chuckled, and said, "Well, Elizabeth, you are wiser than I am, and far more generous. I will make you one promise, though. I will do my best to do a better job with my other two daughters."

"All right, but need I remind you that you have _four _unwed daughters!"

Bennet chuckled, and said, "Three at the most, and God help any father that thinks he is going to navigate Elizabeth Bennet's course in life."


	46. Mama Bear

_A/N: Hey gang, this conversation with Elizabeth and her father expanded quite a bit, but I just wasn't willing to let it go. This is the kind of story I could probably burn ten more chapters at Longbourn, but it would get tedious pretty fast. I was looking for the __correct__ exit, and I think I've found it. You tell me.  
Wade_

* * *

Anxious to move onto another topic, and slightly woozy on top of it, Elizabeth thought to get all the awkwardness with her father out of the way once and for all.

"Father, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course!"

Elizabeth took a deep breath, and said, "Well, a few minutes ago you implied, or at least strongly suggested that I am somewhat manipulative, or perhaps downright manipulative."

Bennet chuckled, and said, "Well, here we have a basic problem with language, Elizabeth. In our generally accepted vernacular, the word 'manipulative' is considered derogatory, but it need not be."

"How so? I have never heard it used any other way."

Bennet took another careful sip of his brandy which was decidedly _not _French, and absolutely _not _smuggled, then replied, "Well, Elizabeth, I do not actually know how much it is used, but I believe its general meaning among lunkheads is applied towards women who are forceful, but subtle about it. Take the exact same characteristic and apply it to a man and it is called 'leadership'. I am not one of those to whom the word is automatically negative. I believe you _are in fact_ a bit of a leader. If some mean to call that 'manipulative', I would suggest they are overcompensating for something."

Elizabeth nodded, thought a moment, and said, "Overcompensating, eh? For example, entirely hypothetical of course, a parent is supposed to _manipulate _his children to make them into good citizens by polishing off their worst characteristics and getting them to learn to be better. Should one of these children chafe at the bit, and perhaps begin to 'lead' better than he does, then he _might_ become angry at being shown up or having his proper role usurped."

Bennet leaned his head back and laughed the hardest Elizabeth had ever seen him laugh. A moment later, he was wiping his eyes with a handkerchief whilst muttering, _'overcompensating… overcompensating, indeed._ I must say you are a treasure, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth chuckled along with him, and decided he was obviously not overly angry, and perhaps this new 'adult' relationship they were embarking on might be deemed off to a better than expected start.

Curiously, she said, "Well, now that we got that out of the way, let me ask another question. Was I just the manipulee – is that even a word – instead of the manipulator. Did you guide this discussion towards a preordained goal?"

Bennet chuckled, and said, "A fair question, Daughter… fair indeed! I must confess something. I _wish _I had been manipulating you, as it would give me some boasting rights for my cleverness, even if only in my own head. Alas, it was an honest discussion. I had no idea where it was heading when it started and was surprised by the conclusion when it ended.

Elizabeth nodded, just starting to feel some slightly increasing effects from the brandy.

She asked, "So you are sanguine about my efforts?"

"Of course! The results speak for themselves, although we might want to discuss what happens _next!_"

"What is that, Father?"

Bennet chuckled and said, "Well, Mrs. Jenkinson was more happenstance than planning, but all great leaders depend to a certain extent on luck. The best of them make their own luck. Do you think she could teach your Miss de Bourgh a thing or two?"

"If she can teach Lydia, she could teach a mule. I see no reason Anne should be all that difficult. She is not stupid."

Bennet leaned ahead, and said, "Except for the fact that Miss de Bourgh has _already had _the woman in her house for _years_, or maybe decades, and yet she is unaccomplished."

"That was because she did not try!", Elizabeth snapped, feeling her temper raising and wondered if the brandy was making it worse or better. However, absent a long‑running experiment that would require more time and brandy than she possessed, it would remain an unknown variable.

"All right, let us assume she is in a new environment, and for the moment, let us hope for the best."

Feeling dubious, Elizabeth nodded in agreement.

Bennet completely changed tack and said, "Do you really think at her _current _level of resilience that she is a match for your mother's wedding planning?"

Elizabeth snapped, "How do you know about that?"

Bennet chuckled, told her to take another small sip while he walked to another cabinet on the wall and opened a door.

Elizabeth was shocked to hear voices, very faint, but easy enough to understand if you were very quiet and worked at it. Anne had just said something, to which Lydia replied, "La, Anne. You would not have believed what happened with Mr. Wickham. _What a stroke this will be for poor Jane! who would willingly have gone through the world without believing that so much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind, as was here collected in one individual._"

Bennet closed the door, put his finger to his lips, and whispered, "Woman grown, Elizabeth."

"I wish you would stop saying that."

"Yes, well I wish you had quit growing about a year after I handed you that mathematics book. That was the best time of my life. You were quite a fireball. I was prodigiously proud of you, and a bit frustrated that I could not say so."

Elizabeth just shook her head sharply and started to speak before being forestalled by Bennet raising his hand.

"No need to try to come up with a witty reply, Elizabeth. Things are as they should be, although I do have another topic to discuss."

Elizabeth said, "Well, I do as well. It is high time we did something about Mr. Wickham. I have learned some things about him that make it imperative that someone take action."

Bennet actually chuckled, and said, "Popular fellow, this Wickham. Everybody wants a piece of him. Lydia wanted her pound of flesh. Your Mr. Darcy wanted his chance to take a run at him. Now you line up for your turn. I presume you have not been acquainted with the reason it is quite impossible for you to affect him, though."

"What do you mean?"

"He is beyond correction, I fear. He is dead."

Elizabeth was shocked, though not as shocked as she might have been a few weeks ago, and asked, "How?"

"Well, it is quite a story. You see, he first tried his hand at flirting with Lydia, and she gave him a right good setdown, quite publicly. For just a moment I thought I was seeing you on one of your tirades. She went on for some time about debts and flirtations, and so forth. It was glorious, I must admit."

Elizabeth was staring in either shock, amusement or consternation. The brandy was not helping her mind to clear, but she was not convinced it hurt either. She asked, "Well, I presume Lydia did not kill him?"

"No, but I imagine he gave her the '_Et tu, Brute?'_ treatment, as that was the start of his downfall. After that, the merchants started checking his debts, and calling them in. He could not pay of course, so Colonel Forster garnished his wages and set up a payment schedule, whilst giving him double duties. The ladies all gave him a wide berth, so he started trying, let us say _more aggressive _methods. It culminated in him trying to steal a kiss from Prudence Brown."

Elizabeth gasped, and said, "Prudence Brown! Had he no sense of self‑preservation at all?"

Bennet chuckled, and said, "Well, apparently not. With a farrier for a father and five brothers, she is not one to be trifled with. She dispatched him with a strategically placed knee, which is…"

Bennet looked embarrassed, but Elizabeth said, "Oh, be a grown man, Bennet. She kicked him in a vulnerable area between the legs, which I am reliably told hurts like the dickens."

Bennet chuckled and said, "Well, Elizabeth, this business of allowing children to grow up takes some getting used to. Mary and Jane were easy. They left almost as soon as it became difficult."

Elizabeth tried her best to just see the humor in his assertion, rather than walking back to the parlor just to get her fan just to smack him in the forehead with it.

Bennet continued, "Well, the man apparently had a death wish. He tried to get some money out of Mr. Brown, claiming he would hurt her reputation by spreading tales."

By that point, Elizabeth's annoyance had completely vanished, and she leaned forward to hear the rest of the story.

"You know Old Man Mason's gray stallion?"

"Yes, he is famous as the most ill‑tempered horse in the world, or at least England. I have no idea why he has not been put down yet."

"You do not know Old Man Mason. He was named 'Old Man Mason' when I was a boy. The horse matches his temperament."

Elizabeth said, "Sooooo?"

"Well, Mr. Brown is quite a skilled farrier. The best there ever was, but I imagine Wickham's words made him lose his concentration for just a moment, what with the entire topic being upsetting. The old horse somehow escaped his halter, and in a complete freak accident, he seems to have become upset, reared up and come down with his hoof on Mr. Wickham's head."

Elizabeth's mouth hung open, and she finally said, "Freak accident?"

"What else could it be? You cannot believe he would do it _deliberately_, do you?"

"Of course, not!"

"The magistrate called it a death by misadventure and accident. He even managed to say it without muttering 'good riddance' under his breath. Seems Wickham was fishing in more than one stream."

Elizabeth just shook her head and decided that if the brandy had not killed her yet, she might have just a taste more.

Bennet nodded approval, and said, "One lesson, Elizabeth. In this new life you are embarking on, there may be times when you need to take some spirits for various reasons. You might like it. You might hate it. You might love it like Mr. Hurst, thought that seems entirely unlikely. Just remember your mother at a party from time to time. Test your tolerance with someone you trust, know your limits, and do not exceed them. Save your excesses for home."

"Is that what you would tell a son, Father?"

"No, by your age, a son would have raided my liquor cabinet too many times to count, and there would not be a thing in the world I could tell him about liquor."

Elizabeth laughed, not sure if it was the right sentiment.

Bennet continued, "It was only two days later that your Mr. Darcy came looking for him."

"I see. He must have been disappointed."

Bennet noticed that she had given up all pretense of denying he was 'her' Mr. Darcy, but there was no telling if that was because she was bored with the game or starting to think it was not quite so unlikely after all.

"I think he was conflicted. It must have been sad to lose a childhood friend who his father liked a great deal, regardless of how he turned out. He must have been relieved that he would not have to send him to debtor's prison or get him shipped off to France to take his chances with the army. He must have been disappointed that he could not use a positive action to impress his lady‑love."

Elizabeth just let the last bit of teasing slide by, feeling it was not worth the effort of contradiction.

"In the end, he compromised. He discovered Wickham's debts and settled some of them. The honest merchants got some portion of a settlement, not because he could not afford to make them whole, but because he thought they should pay for at least some of their mistakes to teach them caution. Of course, the money loaned to finance drunken revelries in the tavern remain unpaid, as do his gambling debts. Then of course…"

Elizabeth saw him pause, and said, "Do not get missish on me now, Father."

"Well, he had managed to convince two local girls to give up their virtue, with the expected result."

Elizabeth was not so sure she wanted to know that, but Bennet continued.

"As far as we can tell, Wickham did not _take _it from them. They both gave it willingly, but… well."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, since as you said, Lydia could have easily ended up as one of them, I cannot fault them _too_ badly. In fact, _I _might have been in some danger in the beginning of our acquaintance. Not much, but he was handsome."

Bennet nodded, and said, "Well, be that as it may, it is a difficult situation for a young woman. Mr. Darcy has seen it before, and he did what he apparently usually does."

"Which is?"

"Oh, he says not to read too much virtue into his actions. He just sees a duty and throws money at it. Both girls managed to get reasonably good husbands away from Meryton with a small dowry, which Mr. Darcy stood for. He said it was his duty for not taking the blackguard down years ago; although why it is his duty is beyond me."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, that sentiment is admirable, although I believe that there are enough rotten apples in the general population, that he would have been replaced with someone else."

"Perhaps. We will never know. At any rate, your Mr. Darcy, left the county about £2,000 poorer."

Elizabeth smiled without realizing it, and said, "Perhaps, or perhaps you have an inverted the proper understanding of it. Perhaps he left the county £2,000 richer in character, or richer in pride – the proper kind."

Bennet chuckled and said, "Not to put too fine a point on it, Elizabeth, but might he have left the county £2,000 richer in affection?"

Elizabeth snapped her head up, and said, "That smacks of a mercenary attitude, Mr. Bennet."

Bennet chuckled, and said, "Yes, but are you certain you would be so offended if there was not a tiny grain of truth?"

Elizabeth sighed, and nodded, admitting defeat.

After a while, she said, "I would not put a price on _affection_, Father, but I do not find anything wrong with the idea of him buying £2,000 worth of _esteem_. However, that is a pittance compared to the esteem he gained by coming here and doing the right thing, regardless of his motives. He has nearly infinite _money_, but no more _time_ than you or I, and yet he spent it here, doing what is right. I cannot fault him for that."

Bennet leaned forward, reached his hand across his desk, and laid them there, palms up and just held them still until Elizabeth joined her hands and squeezed.

He said, "Never value affection over esteem, Elizabeth. If you have esteem, affection tags along like a newborn calf to his mother. I can say that I believe he is a good man. He has my esteem, and if he has yours, I believe whatever happens between the two of you will be as it should be… whatever that is."

Elizabeth smiled, and sat in quiet contemplation for a time.

_After watching her a little, _Mr. Bennet_ asked her why she was so thoughtful._

_"I am thinking of what you have been telling me," said she. "Mr. Darcy's conduct very much suits my feelings_, but _why am I to be the judge?"_

Bennet chuckled and said, "Why indeed, Elizabeth? Why, indeed!"

She nodded, and Mr. Bennet left her for a moment, and thought about relighting his pipe, but had another idea.

"Elizabeth, we have not walked the park for quite some time, or even the gardens for that matter.

She agreed readily, and ten minutes found them both bounding up the path towards Oakham Mount. Well, she was bounding along, and he was walking sedately, but why quibble.

After a time, he said, "Might we return to your ECS?"

Elizabeth looked perplexed, and Bennet said, "You always like to make up scales with three letter names. You have been doing it since you learned about graph theory. I think that might be all the rage centuries hence. What was that one you used on Miss de Bourgh… QOL for Quality of Life?"

"How did you know about that?"

Bennet just put his hand on his ear, and said, "Do not worry, Elizabeth. I open that cupboard only rarely, and I have never heard anything that you would be embarrassed by. For that particular story, I was not even in my library. I heard you while I was walking down the hall, so I presume it was not _that _secret. Do not worry, no servant would risk Mrs. Hill's wrath by listening in, and your mother or sisters would not even understand it. I only caught a minor reference in a conversation with that lady and surmised the rest."

"All right, so what is the ECS?"

"That is _Elizabeth's Coddling Scale_. Your measure of how much parents coddle their children."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Have we not beat that subject to death, Father?"

"Nearly, but let us give it one more poke, if you do not mind. I believe you are an aficionado of examining situations by reversing the characters, no?"

"Yes. As I told you, I changed my opinion about Mr. Darcy by imagining Jane as a rich heiress and his friend as Mr. DownOnHisLuck with no fortune at all."

Bennet chuckled, and said, "I bet Heiress Bennet's good friend Charlotte Lucas dragged her from the Netherfield ball by force."

Elizabeth laughed, and asserted that was exactly as it went.

"Now, let us try a different tack. Your Miss de Bourgh has assigned herself the onerous duty of bringing my wife into alignment with Jane's wishes with regard to her wedding, no?"

Elizabeth decided to quit being offended that her father knew more than he should, and simply nodded.

"Well, let us just assert that your young friend has been coddled all her life, whilst also acknowledging that it is difficult to know just how a very sick young lady _should_ be raised so it would not be right to make judgments. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Now, let us assume that she has a trusted friend to pull her out of the doldrums. In one burst of bravery she somehow engineers a situation where she has someone to guide her through society, at well over three and twenty years of age."

Elizabeth scrunched her face, and said, "Where are you going with this, Father?"

"It will become clear in a moment. We are going to do a sort-of Reverse Mama Bear."

Elizabeth just shook her head in confusion. The fuzziness of the brandy was being displaced by the clear air of the park, but her father was getting more confusing.

"Let us pick another example. Suppose a parent is indolent about raising his children, and manages to get away with it just because his eldest two decide the path to success is to coddle their parents? You would have to agree that you and Jane have been in the 20-40 range on your scale, would you not? You have managed to allow your mother and I to carry on as before because you take up the slack and keep things from utterly falling apart."

Elizabeth snapped, "Perhaps we do, perhaps not. We were _children_. We did our best, and I will not be criticized for it."

Bennet, quite unperturbed, said, "Do not make assumptions, Elizabeth. That was not criticism. It was both praise and an attempt at objectivity. Can we at least agree on the basic facts?"

"I would have to think about it, but since you are obviously working your way up to something, I will provisionally accept your thesis."

Bennet nodded, and said, "Well, you know what a Mama Bear does when her cub becomes too lazy and dependent?"

"Of course! She drives it off into the woods."

"Exactly. Now, let us say that we have a situation where two parents, a new guest, two younger sisters, and who knows else, all depend on a single Mama Bear to work out all difficulties. Are they going to grow into their roles, or just depend on her forever, or until she tires of the sport or marries?"

Elizabeth decided that her assessment of the brandy wearing off was optimistic, or her father was being obtuse, because she was not quite following.

"What are you saying, Father?"

Bennet stopped his daughter so he could face her, and said, "I am saying, Elizabeth, that Miss de Bourgh, myself, your mother; _we all need you to go away for a while_. Lydia is coming into her own a bit, so you need not worry about those two, but your friend Anne should not be saddled with the responsibility of managing _my wife_, and yet she should not be coddled into society by depending on you for guidance. I think you should go back to town and stay with the Gardiners until Jane's wedding, and then you should go on the tour with them straightaway. Let me deal with making sure Jane's wedding is appropriately elegant and simple, and I will, along with Lydia and Mrs. Jenkinson, make sure that your Miss de Bourgh gets a chance to grow a bit. She will lean on you if you are here."

"So, you want me to drag Anne out of Rosings practically by force, and then just _abandon_ her?"

Bennet chuckled, and said, "Yes, exactly. I want you to drive both your dependent and your parents off into the woods."

Elizabeth walked over to a bench to sit and think for a few minutes.

Bennet gave her a few minutes, while watching for the telltale signs of an impending thought storm. After a few minutes, he said, "It would also do you some good to spend a few months away from your sisters, your parents, everyone who depends on you, either appropriately or overly much. I believe we can assert that the Gardiners are in no need of your services. They can take you out in society, and you can enjoy a bit of time with no worries about your family embarrassing you or needing to take care of anybody for anything. I think it would be good for you as well as your cubs. Take a chance to _just be a young lady in society_ without fears, responsibilities or expectations. Dance with young men without watching for your family to embarrass you. Flirt a bit if you like, with the knowledge that you do not _need _any suitors. Just enjoy your life for a while."

Elizabeth had to laugh, no longer curious about where she had acquired the propensity to use a metaphor one time too many.

Finally, she said, "All right, that makes sense. Shall you call for the carriage now?"

He just laughed, and said, "Well, the blacksmiths say, _'strike while the iron's hot'_. Why not? While I am at it, I suppose I could give my blessings to Jane's gentleman and bring her home in a few days. Can you pack in an hour?"

Elizabeth laughed, jumped up from the bench and started back to the house, suddenly full of new energy as if a weight had been lifted from her chest.

* * *

_A/N: __**FUN FACT**__: Scroll up a couple pages and you'll see a sentence where Elizabeth is alluding to an increase in esteem for Darcy. It has the sentence:_

_ "However, that is a pittance compared to the esteem he gained  
by coming here and doing the right thing, regardless of his motives."_

_That sentence contains my __**one millionth word**__ published on this site._

_Wade_


	47. Plato's Shadows

_A/N: Hey Gang, we are starting the downward slope to a conclusion. I say about 5 chapters to go. This one's longer than usual… about double. Wade_

* * *

"Miss Bennet, might I call on you?"

Elizabeth was not shocked by the request, but she was always a bit surprised by them. The nearly two months of Jane's wedding preparations had been spent in London, and this was the fourth such request. Elizabeth had been surprised at the level of society that her Aunt and Uncle could expose her to. She had never previously been interested in the social aspects of the season, which was winding down towards its end. However, with this brief respite before Jane's wedding, she had decided to make a right go of it. Her father financed some new dresses, her Aunt and Uncle had been thrilled to escort her around, and she had found herself surprisingly popular for a country nobody.

Her first request for calling privileges had happened a fortnight after her entrance into society. She had carefully and courteously denied the request, and the man had taken it with good grace. The second had resulted in a man who her mother would have been quite happy for her to marry, but she had slow-walked his efforts until he lost interest. He was not an _unsuitable _man, but he was not capital, and Elizabeth was in no big hurry. With two sisters well married, one to the heir of Longbourn, there was no need for her to marry at all, let alone anytime soon.

The current requestor, or suitor, or whatever he might be, was an entirely different kettle of fish. He was _everything a young man ought to be_. He was handsome, amiable, polite, well read, and a good conversationist. As the eldest son of a prosperous estate, he was quite eligible. He was not spending his time in idle pursuits waiting for his father to die, but instead spent it helping his younger brothers establish professions and running many of his father's business affairs. There was not a single thing wrong with him that she had been able to detect over the course of two sets and some conversation in between.

Stalling for time, she said, "Well, Mr. Oakley, I would be happy to receive you, except I leave town the day after tomorrow, and I will be gone for some months."

"I see. Might I inquire where you are off to, if that is not too impertinent?"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Of course not. My eldest sister, Jane, is to be married next week. I am returning to my father's house for the wedding the day after tomorrow. After her wedding, I am to go on a six-week tour of the Lakes with my Aunt and Uncle, whom you met earlier in the evening. I do not anticipate returning before the end of the summer."

The man nodded, and said, "I see. Well, it so happens that I will be leaving London within the fortnight. I will also be away seeing to some of my father's business for the next month or two, so I suppose it was not to be… at least not at this time."

Elizabeth nodded, feeling that she _should _be more distressed about the lost opportunity to at least cement a friendship, replying, "Well, perhaps we might meet again another day."

Elizabeth wondered what exactly was on his mind, and momentarily forgetting the rules of propriety, she leaned in closer and asked, "I would be quite happy to do so, Mr. Oakley. Might I inquire…"

She belatedly realized how far she was from being polite, and stopped talking for a moment, searching for an elegant exit from the trap of her own making.

Fortunately, the gentleman came to her rescue, quite gallantly in her opinion.

"You wish to ask the _nature_, or perhaps the _intent_ or _inclination _of the call, but I could see the moment when you realized that might sound inappropriate."

With a sigh, she replied, "Yes, Sir", quite happy to see he did not appear to be offended.

He said, "Well, we have discussed some, shall we say, 'out of the ordinary' matters, Miss Bennet. I must admit that I admire your obvious intelligence, and I also admire how you neither hide it, nor use it as a weapon. I have seen both."

Elizabeth nodded, wondering where the conversation was going.

"Miss Bennet, I believe the connections people build during their lives are like a garden. What you end up with after some decades depends on what you plant, where you plant it, and how well it is tended. Would you agree?"

"Most certainly. It makes perfect sense."

"Well, please do not read too much into this, but you remind me somewhat of my mother. She was very intelligent. My parents raised me to respect that. They surrounded themselves with smart people, and I wish to do the same. Now, as far as _intentions _go, I cannot say. Would you agree that relations between unmarried people of marriageable age is complicated and fraught with, shall we say, opportunities for error, misunderstandings and expectations."

Even for Elizabeth, this seemed a bit much for a ballroom conversation, but she was not about to become queasy now.

"Yes. That is why I asked the question… or tried to anyway."

The gentleman nodded, and said, "Twenty years from now, Miss Bennet, I imagine I would like to have a garden like my parents. I would like friends, acquaintances, associates, and – well, please do not read too much into this – but a wife who are something like you. I would like to find out if we might have mutual places with each other's gardens, without presuming at this point, _what that place is_. I believe it far too soon to presume what our future friendship might amount to."

"Well, Sir, I would be happy to be a part of this enterprise. I cannot say how things might transpire in the future, but I can say with some clarity what the timing might look like. Perhaps, you might write to my father when you return a couple of months from now. He could appraise you of my itinerary, and then we shall see what we shall see."

"I would like that, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth gasped, and stood on her toes looking across the ballroom, saying, "Well, I did not expect her here!"

Oakley turned to look the same way, quite puzzled, and Elizabeth grabbed his arm somewhat violently, and started pulling him across the ballroom, simply saying, "Come, Mr. Oakley. You _must _meet my friend. She is definitely someone you need to know."

The two dodged and weaved between groups of people, and at long last managed to catch up with her quarry, who immediately proffered a huge smile, and said, "Lizzy, I did not know you would be at this ball."

The ladies curtsied, and gave each other brief embraces, while the gentleman looked on in bemusement. It took a few minutes for them to sort out exactly why two friends were at the same ball at the same time without managing to be aware of each other's schedules, and it all made perfect sense, eventually – or he presumed it did to the ladies anyway.

Elizabeth said, "Charlotte, may I introduce you to my friend, Mr. Oakley. Mr. Oakley, Miss Charlotte Lucas, my very best friend in the world."

"A pleasure, Miss Lucas."

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Oakley."

Elizabeth could see that the two of them might indeed be very good friends given some time together, and she wanted some time of her own to figure out exactly _why_ she was not any more interested in Mr. Oakley than she seemed to be.

Elizabeth asked, "Is Lady Catherine here with you?"

She jumped a bit when she heard, "Well met, Miss Bennet", from just over her left shoulder.

She turned to see Lady Catherine advancing with quiet dignity, offered a curtsy and said, "Well met, Lady Catherine. I am so happy to see you."

Much to Elizabeth's surprise, Lady Catherine said, "Well, Miss Bennet, I got a kiss on the cheek last time we were together, and now all I get is an overly formal curtsy."

Elizabeth had to laugh and was a bit surprised to see the dowager chuckle along with her.

Lady Catherine turned to the to the others, and said, "Mr. Oakley, it is good to see you again. It has been some years."

"The pleasure is mine, Lady Catherine."

Elizabeth looked back and forth between them, and Lady Catherine said, "My late husband had some dealings with their family from time to time. I have not been in contact recently. I understand you mother passed a couple of years ago. I must offer my condolences."

Oakley bowed, and said, "I thank you, my lady."

Elizabeth wanted a few minutes with Lady Catherine before the night ended, so she said, "Well, Mr. Oakley, I look forward to our next meeting. If you wish to dance again…"

Oakley smiled, and said, "Miss Lucas, might I have the pleasure, if you are not engaged for the next set."

"I am not engaged, Sir", Charlotte said, with a bit more of a blush than Elizabeth had ever seen on her friend.

The couple want off to dance, and Lady Catherine said, "You are quite the fisherman, Miss Bennet. You seem to be willing to throw quite an impressive catch back."

Elizabeth snapped back to look at her, and said, "Excuse me?"

"Oh, do not get yourself into a lather! I was just curious about why you threw the most eligible man in this room, by quite a wide margin, at your friend. That is my job. I can tell you the shock is quite a trial on my poor nerves."

Elizabeth laughed most indecorously, and Lady Catherine joined her in mirth, though with less overt enthusiasm.

Elizabeth said, "Well, Mr. Oakley just told me he is trying to build a wide circle of intelligent friends. I thought I would start with Charlotte, then perhaps Mary, and we might work our way up."

Lady Catherine smiled slyly, and said, "Well, if you say so, Miss Bennet, I must accept it… I suppose."

Elizabeth grinned, and said, "I truly am happy to see you, Lady Catherine."

"So, you are not concerned that I will take you to task over dragging my daughter out of Rosings, and summarily abandoning her less than a fortnight later."

"Not particularly."

Once again, the dowager chuckled, and waved towards a couple of empty chairs, suggesting they sit for a while.

Elizabeth gladly complied, made sure the lady was comfortable, and asked if she might get her any refreshment.

"Not on your life. Sit down and let us return to Mr. Oakley."

Curious about where the lady was going, Elizabeth said, "Well, what can I tell you, Lady Catherine. You are correct, and I like the fact that you seem to approve of him. I have known him but a couple of hours, and he seems to be all that a young man ought to be."

"And yet, you introduced him to your friend, whom you know perfectly well is in want of a husband, and sooner than later."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I imagine I cannot help myself, Lady Catherine. Much like you, I like to be of use. I see two people who would get along well together, and I cannot help but make an introduction."

The lady harrumphed in a less than entirely ladylike manner, and said, "Well, Miss Bennet, might I dig a bit deeper into this matter?"

"Of course! You cannot imagine I would object to any topic you choose."

The lady smiled, and said, "Well, that was laying it on a bit thick. A lighter touch in your fawning if you please."

Both laughed a bit, before Lady Catherine said, "Might I theorize that Mr. Oakley is _almost_ all a young man ought to be. Perhaps he is not _quite _tall enough."

"Lady Catherine, the evidence of your own eyes will tell you that I barely break the five-foot mark, even in boots."

"Yes, yes, but I am aware you are an aficionado of mathematics, so you I would believe geometry must be involved. Perhaps you would find it either aesthetically pleasing or pragmatically fitting for a man to be substantially taller than you."

Elizabeth scrunched her face, and said, "I really cannot follow your reasoning. I do admit to some preference for tall men, but I can assure you that Mr. Oakley is… tall enough."

Lady Catherine leaned forward, and said, "Yes, perhaps _tall enough_, but perhaps there are other hidden objections – meaning hidden from you but not from me."

Quite confused, Elizabeth just raised an eyebrow in query.

"Perhaps Mr. Oakley's hair is not black enough for your preference, or his horse is not white enough, or his jackets are not…"

Elizabeth interrupted with a laugh, though it was a bit awkward and embarrassing, saying simply, "Or his manners are _too engaging_, or his pride is _too regulated_, or his…"

"So, we seem to be converging on the same idea. Shall I summarize. He is a perfectly good man for dancing, conversation, acquaintance, friendship, lifelong friendship, and _maybe _more, but he currently suffers from the defect of _not_ being your Mr. Darcy."

"He is not _my Mr. Darcy._"

Lady Catherine leaned towards Elizabeth, reached over and took one of her hands in hers, and asked, "I am curious, Miss Bennet. If he is not _your Mr. Darcy,_ then _what exactly is he?_"

"You are worse than my father, Lady Catherine, and he is worse than an Inquisitor."

Not one to take such bait, the lady just waited.

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "What have you surmised."

"I was not born yesterday. I have known Fitzwilliam man and boy since his birth. He came to Rosings Confused. Halfway through, he became briefly happier than I have ever seen him. Later the same day he looked like he had been beat with a stick, and a day later, he was… well, I cannot quite work out what he was when he left. He was a changed man, and your Mr. Occam suggests _you _must have wrought the change."

Elizabeth wondered about the reference, but Lady Catherine said, "You left Rosings, Miss Bennet, but your sister is still there. I have managed to learn quite a lot about you."

Elizabeth nodded, and said, "And what is your conclusion, if I might be so bold as to ask."

She smiled, and said, "Well, I will not give you a _conclusion_. Let us look at the alternate definitions for that word. The first, which I am certain you were employing is, _'a judgment or decision reached by reasoning'_, whilst it could also mean, _'the end or finish of an event or process'_. At the moment, I have some _opinions _that are assisted by reasoning, but they are also half guesswork. As to the 'end or finish', well I am in no way convinced that the story of Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy is anywhere near a conclusion."

Elizabeth stared at her for a moment, and finally said, "I can see I need to…"

"Need to what, Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, never mind. If you are pushing me towards an alliance with Mr. Darcy, you will simply be joining a long line of others who have been there before you."

"And yet, you do not agree?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I do not know. I am… well, I find myself not understanding how I feel."

The admission of having something as week as confusion was hard to make, but Lady Catherine seemed as good a confidant as any.

"You put me in mind of Plato's Shadows, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth looked curiously, and said, "I am afraid I do not know about those, Lady Catherine."

"It is from his _Allegory of the Cave, _from _The Republic_. Plato imagines a group of people who live their entire lives from birth chained to the wall of a cave, with a fire behind them. They spend all their time looking at the movement of the shadows on the wall. They give them names, study their movements and try to work out the natural laws of shadows."

"Yes, go on. It sounds fascinating."

"Well, suppose the prisoners manage to break their bonds one day, and escape to the light to discover the world was not as they knew. Would they accept the new world in all its confusing glory, retreat back to their chains, or spend the rest of their lives vacillating between the two?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "That last part sounds like you made it up."

"It is an allegory. They are intended to encourage thought, not just rote memorization."

"I agree. So, what about this allegory reminds you of me, or what about me reminds you of the allegory?"

Lady Catherine kept hold of her hands, and said, "Well, Miss Bennet, in some ways, many of us were the poor creatures chained to the cave, and you helped us break free. I know I am exaggerating for effect, but the sentiment is the same."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, as much as I would like to dispute your reasoning, I assume you will demand some _evidence _to support my refusal."

"Probably, but why do you assume that."

"My father did… and…"

At her hesitation, the dowager said, "… and I suppose Darcy did as well?"

Elizabeth just nodded, not really able to add more.

"Now, let us imagine that you are this mysterious chain breaker, but you in fact had never left the cave yourself. The shadows were all from a fire, so when you broke the creatures free, all you did is move them a few yards from their original positions so they could see the fire."

"Yes…"

"And then someone comes along, who takes you entirely outside the cave. You would have become quite comfortable in your position as liberator, having saved the poor creatures from their chains, but quite confident that, since you knew all there was to know about fires, you were master of the situation. Suppose you went outside and were exposed to the _sun_. What then?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, Lady Catherine, I feel sorry for poor Plato, considering how badly you had to abuse his metaphor to make your point, but I do understand it. You are saying that I am just afraid to embrace the next reality of my life."

Lady Catherine patted her hands a few times, and said, "That is more or less right, although I would not have spent quite so much time critiquing the quality of the discourse."

Elizabeth laughed, back in better spirits, and said, "Well, based on your story, Lady Catherine, I am outside the cave, looking in wonder at my first butterfly, wondering if it is real or just a fever dream."

"Well, you are young, and you have time. You need not work it all out today. May I ask a boon?"

"Of course!"

"Might I attend your sister's wedding?"

Elizabeth was a bit perplexed by the request, but answered immediately, "Of course! What a silly question. You are naturally welcomed. Why would you even ask?"

"I am not entirely certain why. It just seemed impolite to presume, and I do not know if you mean to keep me away from Anne entirely for this year."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, as you can see, I have abandoned Anne to her fate. In truth, I believe I had done all I could do for her within five minutes of the _Frogs in Pots _story."

Lady Catherine laughed, and said, "Well, I can honestly say that you are likely the only person in my life to ever call me _'Little Frog'_."

Elizabeth smiled, realizing it was all in fun.

Lady Catherine said, "Well, speaking of Frogs, would your Aunt and Uncle object to allowing me to swap your company for Miss Lucas. I would like to speak to you some more, and that seems the perfect opportunity."

"I will have to ask, but I see no reason why not. I have been at their house for two months and will be traveling with them for six weeks after the wedding. I imagine they will have their fill of my company. What do you wish to talk about?"

Lady Catherine gave a bit of a smirk, and said, "Well, we shall start with Frogs and Pots."

"I thought we exhausted that topic."

"No, not quite. I feel it my duty to tell you that if you manage to put a frog into a teapot, and subsequently manage to swap the pot on the poor butler, that the frog will definitely jump out when he is presented in the company of a duke. He might even manage to land in the part of a lady's anatomy that should usually remain frog‑free."

Elizabeth laughed in consternation, trying to picture Lady Catherine with a frog on her… well, the mental image was just too much to bear.

"So, who was the vile prankster who did this terrible dead to the poor defenseless frog?"

"How about the poor defenseless lady?"

Elizabeth did not even dignify that with a response but raised her eyebrow in question.

"Well, of course the miscreant was one or both of my nephews. I have no idea who instigated the scheme, but Darcy was perfectly willing to take the blame or credit as appropriate."

Elizabeth gasped, "Mr. Darcy did that?"

"Oh, all that and more. That is why I want you to ride with me. I plan to regale you with tales of my two nephews, who were more often in trouble than out of it in their youth. Perhaps, you might find it helpful to talk to a naturalist as you examine this butterfly to see if it is real."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "It will be my pleasure. I can never pass the opportunity to learn from an expert on frogs. Let us find my Uncle and we can arrange the whole affair right now."


	48. The Third Hand

"Lizzy, what do you think of Mr. Oakley?"

Elizabeth and her best friend Charlotte were escaping the madness of last‑minute wedding preparations by taking an extended walking tour of their favorite haunts, while Mr. Bennet did his best, aided by the strident voices of both members of the de Bourgh families, to keep the preparations exactly as they had been designed and implemented over the previous month, with no last minute changes. Jane had calmly walked the first hour with them but had returned to Longbourn some time before to have a visit with her betrothed.

Elizabeth had wondered exactly where she would put up Lady Catherine and had been surprised when the lady simply went to Netherfield, as if she either owned the place or had been there many times. When asked about how she managed the feat, she danced around it for a while, and finally confessed that she had at least made contingency plans to stay there should any sort of need arise some months earlier. Apparently, Mama Frog was willing to let Baby Frog swim at leisure, but not _quite _'out of sight, out of mind'. Darcy had asked his apparently still friend Mr. Bingley for permission and had even engaged a few extra servants just in case of need.

Charlotte and Elizabeth had escaped through the simple expedient of refusing to give a single opinion on a single subject, both claiming they were presently considered guests in Hertfordshire, due to their long removal from the county. The assertion did not make the slightest sense to any rational person, but if it was said often enough and with enough vigor, it was eventually accepted as an obviously true fact.

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, Charlotte, I spent a couple of hours in his company, and I believe he seems to be all that a young man ought to be."

Charlotte harrumphed, and said, "Well, that spoils it. I remember the last time you said that."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "It has been a good portion of a year since then, and we have both been through any number of changes and experiences. Perhaps, the definition of _'all a young man ought to be' _has been through some refinement, and no longer has the same meaning it had last fall. Note that it is an assertion of meeting expectations, where the expectations can change based on context."

Charlotte giggled, and said, "Ah, I have missed you, Lizzy. Lady Catherine is quite a lot livelier than I was led to believe, and Mary is a treasure these days, but nobody can do double-speak and rationalization like you."

They both smiled in amusement and continued along the path.

After another dozen or two steps, Elizabeth said, "On a serious note, Charlotte. I truly believe that Mr. Oakley appears to be exactly as I said. I think it behooves us to spend a bit more time learning about someone's character than a few hours at a single ball. I can give you a perfectly good example of someone misunderstanding a gentleman for months over a first impression, so we must be cautious in evaluating someone's character without some exposure. Having said that, I do truly esteem the man, and stand by my assessment. My first impression was quite good, my second was better, and I have no reason to believe the tenth or fiftieth will not be even better."

Charlotte stared at the ground and asked, "So why did you throw him at me, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth stopped so she could face her friend, and said, "Because I like him so much."

"Explain!"

Elizabeth tugged them back into motion and said, "Well, I do like him, probably more than any other man I have ever met after a first meeting. He asked to call on me, though he was a polite and correct as a gentleman could possibly be, in letting me know that the call may or may not be the start of a friendship or a courtship. He knew he might be making expectations and wanted to insure we both agreed about what they were. I greatly appreciated the frankness. I find the prevarications of polite discourse tiresome, and apparently he is also a proponent of clarity over stubborn adherence to propriety."

Charlotte sighed, and said, "Well, Lizzy… It sounds to me that if you set out to deliberately design the perfect man to match you, he would be it."

"Yes, I suppose he would."

"So, once again… Why did you introduce him to _me?_"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Lady Catherine asked the same question. At one level, it is easily explained. He is a man who is trying to make a large group of intelligent friends that he hopes retain the friendship decades hence. I happened to spot one two minutes later, so I was obligated to both of you to arrange a meeting. Well, that is not quite right. I was not _obligated _per se, but I saw the correct thing to do, and I find I cannot avoid doing the obviously correct thing, once I have identified it."

"I can see that. You have always been like that, at least you were when you were not being a little hellion."

Elizabeth giggled, happy that Charlotte was lightening up the conversation.

Charlotte continued, "You are a creature of habits though, Elizabeth. You would not say 'at one level' unless there was at least one more. It would violate mathematical symmetry."

"I did not expect to fool you. You see…"

Charlotte just waited, while watching for any hint of a mind storm, although she did not at all expect it in this case.

"You see, Charlotte. You are in a particular place in life. You know _exactly_ what you want, and your task is to find the closest approximation to your desires, so long as the gentleman also finds you meet his expectations. After that, the next steps are obvious, and you can then move onto the next phase of your life. If Mr. Oakley finds himself in want of a wife, you are quite likely to be happy to fulfill the office. I suspect that you do not need to know any more about him than you do right now. If he popped out of that tree and asked for your hand, I suspect you would accept."

Charlotte thought about it a moment, and said, "Well, before you sent me to Lady Catherine, I most certainly would have. Now… well, now I know I can be a _little _more particular. I think I would have accepted just about anyone but a gambler or rake before."

"So, you would deny him?"

"Of course not! In such a scenario, I would almost certainly accept him, but ask for a moderate courtship. But since we have already passed the tree, and I checked behind it most thoroughly, I believe I am safe for the day."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "I like that phrase, 'safe for the day'. The day might not last forever, Charlotte. Of course, I have not the slightest idea if he has any interest in either of us for more than friendship. I am happy to give him that, as I suspect you are. Beyond that, time will tell."

"So, Lizzy, that was the second hand, but it still lacks… completeness. Let us have the third hand, if you please."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, I am… sort of… more or less… well…"

She growled in frustration at this most inopportune time for her mind to go blank, but she resolved the question by walking to the nearest tree and kicking it vigorously… a trick that only worked in certain company.

Regaining her equilibrium, she said, "Well, unless you are completely impervious to gossip, you probably know that I am in the middle of _something _with Mr. Darcy."

"Yes, I gathered that. Are you willing to define 'something' with any more precision?"

Elizabeth sighed, looked at her best friend, and replied, "With you, I am _willing_, but I am _unable_. I may be in love. I may be embarrassed to have declined two proposals in four months. I may be biding my time. I may be confused. I may just be waiting for the right moment to abandon the idea entirely… I may be…"

She stared down at the grown, growing somber.

Charlotte knew this part of her friend's personality that was _never _shown to anybody save Charlotte, Jane or Mary. She could see that absent some intervention; tears of frustration might follow. Long experience said that such tears might be good or bad. It was hard to tell at this point.

"Might be what, Lizzy? You know what you wanted to say, so say it and let me help you work through it."

The tears did start briefly, but Elizabeth replied, "I might be… broken… unable to move to the next step. I have come to think quite highly of Mr. Darcy, but I do not… I do not… I cannot…"

Charlotte wrapped her arms around the younger lady, and said, "You are most definitely the most un‑broken person I know, Lizzy. If you are confused, it is natural. Is there any chance it might be resolved?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well… we are to meet in October. I suppose there is a chance he may have found someone else by then, and if he has, I will wish him well. If not… well, there is a possibility."

She let out a deep breath, stepped back and wiped her tears with her sleeve, and said, "Well, in a few months, I shall know. Until then…"

"Mr. Oakley would be a distraction. May I expound a theory in a very pretentious way as if I had some wisdom, Lizzy?"

"I would like that."

"Lizzy, you are honest with your feelings with just about everyone but yourself. My experience tells me you will eventually do the most sensible thing, after you have exhausted all other possibilities."

Elizabeth laughed at the old jest, which in previous years had been more fact than hyperbole.

Charlotte continued, "You are a person who cannot cheat, Lizzy… not even a little bit. You and I both know you cannot lie at all. You could not give Mr. Oakley any encouragement, because so long as you are conflicted about another gentleman, it would be a lie. You may or may not make a go of it with Mr. Darcy, but since you are no longer desperate to marry, you have time, but you are not willing to just hang Mr. Oakley out to dry."

"Yes, I suppose so. You make me sound more thoughtful and honorable than I am, Charlotte."

"No, I make you sound just as you are. I assume you could not quite _discourage_ him, but you would have subtly let him know that you were not _encouraging _him."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Yes, that is what I did."

Charlotte stopped her friend, stared at the ground in embarrassment a moment, and asked, "Would you object if _I encourage him_, Lizzy."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Of course not. Why do you think I introduced you?"

Charlotte sputtered, wondering if at some level Lizzy was teasing and at another level, she was dead serious, but then both friends started laughing gaily. Neither of them felt the need to resolve the ambiguity.


	49. Raging Waters

_A/N: Hey gang, you can see we're getting close. This is the last chapter before the one you've all been anxiously awaiting. Wade_

* * *

"Jane, can I presume that you are in love with your intended as a wife should be in love with her husband?"

The question was asked while the sisters were in the middle of fixing Jane's hair. The bride had acceded to _some _of her mother's wishes by allowing herself to be paraded around the neighborhood like a prize heifer for a week, in exchange for one promise. The day of her wedding, she was to have a light repast with her family in the morning, and then lock herself in her room with her sister Elizabeth. The two sisters were not to be disturbed by maids or matrons; family or friends; sisters or misters. Even Mary was banned. This last morning was to be entirely dedicated to the very last bit of sisterly conversation they would ever have before Jane made the change from maiden to madam.

They had already been through her bath, and both young women were sitting at their dressing table for the last time, while Elizabeth fixed Jane's hair in a simple yet elegant arrangement. It was simple both by Jane's desires, her shared esthetic sensibilities with her betrothed, and by Elizabeth's limited skills in that area, so it all worked out as it should.

Jane looked in the mirror at her sister, and said, "Well, Lizzy… it would appear we are both looking at each other in the same mirror. How does it feel?"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "I think I might hit the Colonel with a stick next time I see him."

"Why a stick, Lizzy? That is an expression I have heard you use several times in the last month, but I can swear with absolute conviction that you never used it once in your life before Rosings."

Elizabeth sighed, and thought back in her mind to count how many times she had used the expression and was surprised at its frequency. She finally said, "I confess, I obtained it from Mr. Darcy. He got it from a tenant. We theorize that a stick is the right compromise between a willow switch and a rock. He said…"

She paused a moment, and Jane just nodded encouragingly.

"… He said if he could go back in time to the Meryton Assembly, he would hit his younger self with a stick."

Jane laughed gaily, and said, "Well, you seem to have acquired a lot of things from your time in Rosings."

"I suppose so. We also have Anne. Can you believe I at first thought you to did not get along? You have been like two peas in a pod. I imagine she disclosed the two people in a mirror story."

"Not all of it… just the lesson."

Elizabeth sighed, then brightened up and said, "Let me tell you another thing I acquired with Anne. We have a question stack. When people try to distract from answering a question by asking another question, we just put the original question in the stack and eventually work our way back to demanding an answer."

Jane smiled, and said, "Oh, I have no objection to answering the question. Yes, I love my betrothed more than I can possibly describe. Something… fundamental has changed inside me."

Elizabeth looked carefully at their joined reflections in the mirror, and asked, "What is it like?"

Jane thought hard about it for a moment, trying to get the right answer, or at least identify the right question.

"What is it you want, Lizzy. Do you want to know what it is like after the transition, before, or during?"

"All of it, of course. We have an hour."

Jane laughed at the sheer lunacy of trying to narrow down her roiling thoughts and emotions into a mere hour, thought a minute and began.

"Do you remember that time we watched the dam fail at the Palmerston's farm?"

Elizabeth laughed, "I remember Papa's thrashing after we watched that. You would almost think we were in some danger."

Jane chuckled, remembering the experience slightly differently. She had been terrified, but Elizabeth had been thrilled. At the time, Jane had rationally looked at their situation standing under a tall oak tree a few hundred yards away, and decide to allow her sister the thrill, despite her own fears.

"Well, you remember that a small section fell out of the top first, and water started rushing through. It started eating away at the dirt, and each time it ate a bit more away, the tear got bigger and bigger."

Elizabeth said, "Yes. I think that is called a 'cascading effect'. The rate of erosion increased with each increase in water flow, which caused even more water flow, which caused even more erosion until the entire dam collapsed. It is lucky it was not a very big dam, and that there was really not much below it to be damaged.

Jane smiled, and said, "Well, falling in love was something like that. When you came through London, we were at the point where the dam might well have held. The water was right at the top, but the rain was abating. You dug the first hole across the dam with your little boxes."

Elizabeth just shook her head, and said, "You overestimate my benefit, Jane. The dam was doomed right from the start. I might have dug a trench on one side of it, but the other side would just as well have failed a week or two later anyway."

Jane did not feel like rearguing the point, so she just said, "Well, whether it would have or not is unimportant. It is just that once we had passed the _threshold_, the water started running, and from there it gradually eroded down our fear, apprehensions and confusion. That dam collapsed in less than an hour, but it could just as well have taken a week or stopped eroding altogether."

She paused in thought a moment, and said, "I think for some people, they basically have the entire dam fail all at once, and for others, the flow just wears it down until there is nothing left, with no big even to mark the change from _not in love_ to _in love_. For us, there was just one day when we both _knew._ After that, it seemed like nothing would ever be the same again."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, I am truly happy for you, Jane."

"What about you, Lizzy. Is the dam you are furiously repairing every day against your Mr. Darcy starting to show some signs of damage?"

Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, trying to really examine her feelings and give a clear answer.

At long last, she looked at her sister in the mirror, and said, "I do not know if it is doomed, but… in some ways… well… I do believe there might be some water flowing over the top."

Jane gave her a radiant smile, and said, "That is good news, Lizzy. I know it is confusing and frightening, but it is worth the turmoil. I think that after you meet again in October, you will finally be at peace. You will be _in love_ or _not in love_, but you will at least know. Until then, enjoy your summer of freedom and your trip to the lakes. It might be your last."

Both sisters laughed far more than the jest called for, and all was right with the world.

Jane said, "May I presume to advise _you _for once, Lizzy."

"I would find it refreshing. Lately, everyone seems to want my interference, and it is… well, I am not complaining mind you, but sometimes it is tiring."

"Well, Lizzy. Sometimes a dam gets damaged, half the water flows out until it reaches a new level, and all is done. You have a dam that is half of what it was, but it might stay half a dam forever. Do not do that, I beg of you. We once swore we would only marry for the deepest love. If you do not ever find yourself in that state, then do not marry. If you find yourself after a year and some _not _in love, then put the whole relationship out of its misery and start anew somewhere else, older and wiser."

Elizabeth stared down a minute, and said, "What if I _cannot_, Jane. It is my biggest fear. What if I am just not capable? We both know there is something _different_ about my head. Whether it is _not quite right_, or just _different_ is a matter of conjecture, but you cannot deny the difference."

"Hypatia was different, Lizzy. Agamede was different. Michelangelo was different. Copernicus was different. Newton was different. I would have you no other way."

Elizabeth just hugged her sister.

Jane asked, "Does your Mr. Darcy. Know about this difference?"

"Yes."

"Well, he might be smarter than he appears, if he managed to infer all of that."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "He is smarter than we gave him credit for, but it was unnecessary. I told him the entire story at Rosings, warts and all."

Jane gave her a smirk, and said, "Well, the man I saw in Gracechurch Street was _repentant_, but he was most assuredly _not__ intimidated._ The man that called on Papa was _not afraid._ The man that is paying back every possible debt of civility is not afraid. If you have not scared him off yet Lizzy, I do not believe it can be done."

"He is not afraid, but that does not necessarily mean his dam has collapsed, or that mine will follow."

Jane just smiled, and said, "Well, I imagine we shall see in a few months. I will reserve the right to say, _'I told you so.'_"

Both sisters laughed and decided they had better get back on task if Jane was to be the happiest woman in Meryton in a few short hours.


	50. La Casa

_A/N: Hey Gang. Back 43 chapters ago when I promised the long version, I only had one scene firmly in my head with no idea of how I'd get there. This is it, pretty much exactly as I planned it. You get a monster 10k spread across 4 chapters today. Thanks to my lovely wife Amalia for the Spanish portion.  
Wade_

* * *

"Look at this, Lizzy. We were rushing back to town for my business, but it looks like we have an extra week. What say you to visiting Lambton on the return journey? It would only add a day or two."

Elizabeth looked briefly at Uncle Gardiner's letter, but since he had succinctly summarized all she needed to know, she gave it no more than a glance. As to her answer, she gave it hardly any thought at all.

"Well, Aunt would certainly like to visit old friends I would surmise, and I am not averse to a visit myself. I call it a good plan, or as Sir William would say, _'Capital! Capital!'_"

Mrs. Gardiner concurred with, "Yes, I remember those days of my youth quite fondly, and there are some number of people I occasionally write to that would be nice to visit. I am in favor of the scheme, if you think Kitty and Lydia will not mind having the charge of our children for another week."

"Well, in the first place, I believe Kitty and Lydia are quite enjoying their time with the little ones, particularly as it gives them a bit of a respite from Mrs. Jenkinson's apparently murderous training regimen. And even if Kitty, Lydia _and _Anne were willing to let them out of their sight for long, the only difficulty we might have on our return might be prying them away from Mrs. Hill. She misses having young ones underfoot."

"Well, I imagine we are bound for Lambton then. Do you suppose we should visit Pemberley? It is but five miles away."

Both adults looked at their niece carefully, which just made Elizabeth laugh.

"Of course – and you should stop looking at me as if I might swoon, although I am told it makes for a good effect and abundant sympathy, so I might try it one day. We all know Mr. Darcy well enough that it would be impolite to be so close and _not _call if the family is home. If they are not home, he will not begrudge us a tour, as he certainly had no qualms about visiting Longbourn when he knew I was not present."

Her relatives thought that this might be the opposite of Shakespeare's _'the lady doth protest too much'_, and it was more like _'the lady doth appear more eager than expected'_. They were happy to see she was not nervous about the prospect, as they both dearly wished to see the house. With quite a collection of random thoughts and deep musings, all three left for the journey to Lambton; although to be fair, Mr. Gardiner laid back and fell asleep, so it was unlikely his thoughts were all that profound.

* * *

The report from the inn was that the family was not in residence but was expected soon. All indications were that they would miss the gentleman by a few days, which Elizabeth was philosophical about. She knew she would meet him in October, and that was enough.

Pemberley was everything Elizabeth had thought it might be, and more. She deliberately did not try to distinguish whether she _thought_ or _hoped_ it to be so. _She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were all of them warm in their admiration_, and Elizabeth thought with some surprise that it was exactly as she might expect from Mr. Darcy. It was not gaudy or uselessly fine. The grounds had some parts that were as cultivated as Rosings, but most of it was left much closer to as nature intended. His gardeners and grounds men exerted more of a guiding hand than a bludgeon. She very much approved of the entire enterprise.

Once inside, she found even more to delight the senses. Much like she had seen at Darcy house in London, every room was delicately and tastefully furnished and decorated, a testament to the most recent Mrs. Darcy. Every window looked out on a good prospect, a testament to some skill and planning by the more ancient ancestors.

Mrs. Reynolds was in all ways a delight. Not wanting to overly presume on the acquaintance, Mr. Gardiner gave her his card and indicated that he knew Mr. Darcy slightly, asking the housekeeper to kindly pass his regards onto the master, but otherwise not acting overly familiar. Elizabeth did not give her name at all, since up to this point, every single person who knew both her and the master seemed aware that _something _had occurred between them. It was entirely possible that Mrs. Reynolds had never heard her name even once. However, it was equally likely that she could expound at length on the best ways to manage mirrors and statues – both of which were under her provenance as housekeeper.

Elizabeth was woolgathering a bit and missed the beginning of what her uncle said, but considering his penchant for mischief, it was probably for the best. She did catch the housekeeper's reply though.

_"I say no more than the truth, and everybody will say that knows him. I have never known a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him ever since he was four years old."_

Mrs. Reynolds was quite obviously the perfect example of a smart and capable woman, so Elizabeth had no reason to doubt her word. However, she could not _quite _resist the temptation to poke the bear a little.

"Mrs. Reynolds, I realize _you _have never heard a cross word from the master, but is it possible that _others_ might have?"

_"He is the best landlord, and the best master," said she, "that ever lived; not like the wild young men nowadays, who think of nothing but themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants but will give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men."_

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, I must believe you, Mrs. Reynolds. He sounds like the best of men."

"Oh, I can assure you that he is", but then Mrs. Reynolds looked pensive, and qualified, "of course, there might be _certain _company, that would make him a bit nervous. He would never be ungentlemanly, or any more so than any other fox being chased by hounds, but other than that…"

She trailed off, not at all certain why she had said that last little bit.

Elizabeth, feeling contrite said, "Do not be uneasy, Mrs. Reynolds. Any gentleman who relishes being in that position would not be rational, and I, for one, could never really esteem someone who is not a sensible man."

They both nodded, somewhat out of sorts at how far the conversation had veered from the usual.

"Do you know the master", Mrs. Reynolds started to ask, then scrunched her head and added, "I do not believe I ever got your name."

"Yes, I know Mr. Darcy a little. He visited his friend near my father's estate last Autumn, and I saw him again at Easter in Kent."

That got her the housekeeper's _full _attention. They looked a bit warily at each other for a few moments, and Mrs. Reynolds finally said, "You must be Elizabeth Bennet?"

Elizabeth curtsied, and said, "Yes, I am. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am curious that you know my name."

Mrs. Reynolds glanced at the Gardiners, apparently checking that they were out of hearing. She was not worried about any of her subordinates listening in.

"Well, Miss Bennet. I do know of you. It is not very many ladies who gather the esteem and admiration of both the master and his sister, which you seem to have done. Did you know they are returning in a few days?"

"I heard that in the village. I was hoping our visits might overlap, but alas, our plans changed at the last moment so I could not have my uncle write to Mr. Darcy. We will only be in Lambton a few days."

"Well, I would hope you get a chance to meet. The master knows the value of a young lady's reputation, so he would never speak out of turn, but… well, let us just say that I do believe he would be quite happy to see you, and Miss Darcy, even more so."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, I would be happy with that as well. We are both aware of a dance we will mutually attend in October, so if I miss him now, I will see him in good time."

They walked together for some time, talking about this and that while her Aunt and Uncle trailed suspiciously slowly behind. She strongly suspected she was seeing parts of the house that were not on the tour, but at least they were not shown to the family wing.

At long last, Mrs. Reynolds said, "Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet – it has been quite a pleasure having you here. If you would be so kind, could you send a note when you leave Lambton so I can make the master aware, just in case he misses you?"

Gardiner bowed, and said, "It would be our pleasure, Mrs. Reynolds. The house has been a delight, as is its housekeeper."

They left each other in the entryway, where Mrs. Reynolds turned them over to the head gardener for a tour. Elizabeth suspected that based on the length of time the housekeeper and the gardener kept their heads together, that they were not about to get the same route that other tourists received. She was prepared for anything though, up to and including having the gardener lock her away in a storage shed until the master came home; although she rated the chances of that happening at 20:80 or 30:70 at the most.

* * *

As they descended the stairs of the front entrance, which Elizabeth had to sheepishly admit she liked very much, she heard the rattle of a carriage entering the drive. Her ears perked up like a dog with a tempting sound, and her Aunt asked, "Lizzy, is that Mr. Darcy's carriage?"

Elizabeth smiled brightly as she looked towards the drive, but then it fell as she said, "No, Aunt. It is not. Perhaps he is using a hire carriage?"

"More likely he walked here in bare feet, I should think", her uncle replied.

"Well, we shall learn soon enough."

They waited patiently at the foot of the stairs, as it would not have been safe to cross the drive, even if they were not burning up with curiosity. It took perhaps another minute for the coach to stop in front of them, but by then, Elizabeth was smiling from ear to ear and moving towards the coach with barely restrained alacrity.

As the coachman carefully tied off the reins, and a footman advanced with a step, she forewent the usual common courtesies, and nearly shouted, "Mr. Newton! Mr. Kepler! How wonderful it is to see you again!"

Elizabeth's favorite coachman in the world replied with his own smile, "Ah, Miss Bennet – I find I cannot express the rate at which my happiness has increased over the last half‑minute without using a logarithmic scale!"

Elizabeth laughed gaily, and said, "Mine as well, Sir. And Kep, were you that handsome when we met?"

The younger Mr. Newton blushed a bit, but replied, "You were a bit busy at the time, Miss Bennet, not to mention the… err… impediments to your vision."

Elizabeth laughed, but then glanced to see just who she expected to emerge from the coach. This also made for a significant delta in her pleasure metric, but unfortunately, it was in the opposite direction as Mr. Newton's. Basic politeness demanded she say the disagreeable name for the first time in six months, so she curtsied and said, "Mr. Bingley, good day."

That was about all she could manage, although at that point, her indifference to the man was so complete she would have difficulty expressing it mathematically. Perhaps Mr. Newton's logarithmic scale could be used for more than one emotion, though in this case it would need to be used on the denominator instead of the numerator. Should she draw her enthusiasm for a meeting with the gentleman on a graph, it would be impossible to see the difference between her level of enthusiasm and the zero axis of the graph with the naked eye.

Completely unaware of the thoughts in her head, he smiled in his usual affable, big-sloppy-puppy manner, bowed and made his greeting, "Miss Elizabeth, what a surprise! I cannot tell you how wonderful to see you."

Elizabeth looked carefully at the man and wondered if his lack of self‑awareness was a congenital defect or a learned behavior, but she did not want to spend too much time debating it – although the temptation to discuss it in depth with the Newtons was nearly overwhelming. She was unsurprised that he used the expression _'I cannot tell you'_. She reckoned he thought it meant, _'it is so big I cannot express it'_, but she was more inclined to interpret it as, _'I cannot tell you because my disordered thinking precludes me from working it out'_, but she thought that might be ungenerous.

Her next greeting was _far _less agreeable to her way of thinking.

"Miss Eliza, what a surprise. Do not tell me you decided to stage an ambush on Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth was left with quite a conundrum. She really did not want to be impolite, so for the moment, she was stuck between a noncommittal reply, an unpleasant reply, a _very_ unpleasant reply and an _astonishingly _unpleasant reply. Fortunately, while she was debating the matter, the choice was taken out of her hands by a voice coming over her left shoulder. She seemed to have a lot of people sneaking up on her from behind and wondered if she lacked awareness of her surroundings. She reckoned if she was a soldier, it would be a moot point, since she would probably be dead already.

"Miss Bennet… Mr. Gardiner… Miss Gardiner… Bingley… Miss Bingley… Welcome! Welcome!"

Elizabeth turned around gracefully, her smile fully restored, and decided to have a bit of fun. She had noticed the order of introductions. While not strictly proper, Mr. Darcy had quite subtly made it known who he esteemed and whom he did not.

Elizabeth smiled at him somewhat distractedly for a moment, and then decided to see if she could have a bit of amusement, while simultaneously testing one of her father's theories.

_"Buenas Tardes, Señor Darcy. Espero que nuestra visita inesperada no le cause ninguna molestia."_

_"Por favor, considérese en su casa."_

_"Le agradezco su gentil bienvenida; ¿debo entender sus amables palabras en sentido figurado o al pie de la letra?"_

_"Como usted prefiera, puesto que ambas interpretaciones son correctas."_

Elizabeth lost track of everyone else in the small group, and found herself staring at the vexing-vexing, or was it interesting‑interesting man, with a combination of surprise and wonder. His Spanish was better than she had expected, although at that point she we no longer surprised to discover a new admirable trait. His impertinence had taken a decided turn to the North, a fact she had no objection to.

She found herself unable to speak for a moment, though not due to the usual churning madness of a mind storm. In truth, it was more because her mind had calmed so much there were no words at all, just a feeling of peace and calmness, of living contentedly in the moment. Not only did she _not _need to trim her sails, but she thought she might need to pull out the oars to be even minimally communicative. However, she thought if she could just get rid of some of the spectators that she might be happy to sit in the doldrums for quite some time. She gave the man a smile that she hoped he could understand. They obviously had a lot to discuss, but probably not in company in the middle of the drive.

Fortunately, or not as the case may be, the peace was interrupted quite soon.

"Miss Eliza, pray what language is that?"

Elizabeth sighed and started to turn around. She saw a suspicious looking smirk on Mr. Darcy's mouth, and wondered how he would handle it. In Hertfordshire, he had completely ignored the Superior Sisters. Would he intervene this time?

Somewhat to her surprise, Mr. Darcy answered for her, saying, "It is Spanish, Miss Bingley._ Español._ What was your list of accomplishments back in Netherfield again? I believe you said something like, _a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages,_ as well as something quite vague about air of manner and walking. At the time, I of course assumed that the 'walking' part of the speech indicates that a lady should be able to walk three miles to tend an ill relative, but I could be misremembering."

Elizabeth tried her best not to giggle, and mostly succeeded… mostly.

Not to be daunted, Miss Bingley replied, "I see… and do you think that a modern language?"

"Of course. The Spanish Empire is one of the largest in the world. It is perhaps bigger than the British Empire. Most believe the first modern novel was Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes, and many consider it the best piece of literature ever written. The Spaniards have a long and rich history, so, yes, I do believe it is at least as good to speak that language as the language of the country we have been at war with for most of our adult lives."

"But it is hardly fashionable", she exclaimed with the same voice she might use to explain that a man was a good enough sort, aside from being a criminal.

Darcy just chuckled, and said, "Well, Miss Binley, the term 'fashionable' simply means following along with the currently popular trend, which I find roughly akin to a sheep following the herd. Darcy's prefer to lead, though some of us tend to lead in the wrong direction from time to time, as Miss Bennet well knows. Aside from that, my great grandmother was a _Madrileña_, so all Darcys learn the language."

The lady gasped, while Elizabeth almost laughed, but Miss Bingley at long last showed she had the tiniest bit of sense, as she did not argue the point. Elizabeth thought it might be polite to teach the woman the phrase, _'better late than never.'_

Darcy turned his attention back to Elizabeth, or at least the tiny little bit of it he had been willing to devote to Miss Bingley, which was not all that much.

Elizabeth smiled in return, not particularly needing to say anything.

Mr. Gardiner said, "It is good to see you again, Darcy", and his wife added her sentiments. Both gave bows and curtsied as appropriate.

Elizabeth said, "Might I add similar sentiments, Sir."

The gentleman bowed, and said, "As I said earlier, Miss Bennet, you are quite welcome."


	51. Instruction

The Gardiners noticed that the gentleman and their niece seemed to be diverging from politeness a bit and thought it might be a good idea to move the conversation along. Her uncle cleared his throat, which snapped both of them out of it.

Darcy said, "As I said earlier, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, you are a most welcome sight, as always."

Gardiner chuckled, and replied, "Perhaps, Sir, but I happened to notice that you might have expressed your sentiments in Spanish, which most of us do not speak. Lizzy, might you be willing to translate?"

Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy, and then at her relatives, then at the Bingleys in thought, and finally said, "I will be happy to do so in a moment, Uncle, but I find myself on the horns of a dilemma. I have several topics which must be canvassed, and I do not quite know where to start.

Darcy said, "Can you be more specific, Miss Bennet. I am certain you have a list."

"Of course! You see, Sir, the conversation requires courtesies, interpretation, overdue courtesies and instruction. I am not certain where to start."

Darcy noticed the playfulness of her response and was enjoying it immensely.

He replied, "Well, perhaps we can toss a coin, and use the result to bifurcate the list in half. We would repeat, until there is only one item left and proceed. With four items, that list would only require two coin‑tosses for the first task."

"Or we could throw dice."

"Pull items out of a hat."

"Go into the forest and read some scat."

"I am certain Mrs. Reynolds has some tea leaves."

By this point, Darcy and Elizabeth were chuckling along with the Gardiners, who had contributed half the suggestions. Even Bingley looked ready to join in, when they stopped.

Darcy said, "Perhaps I may borrow a leaf from your usual procedure, Miss Bennet, and attack the problem systematically. I believe a careful analysis of requirements and prerequisites might yield a more optimal sequence than random chance."

"How so, Sir?"

By this point, almost everyone except the two principals were just about ready to give up in confusion.

"Well, Miss Bennet, would you not agree that _proper _courtesy requires adherence to the usual rules of politeness and etiquette?"

"That seems sensible."

"And would you also agree that it is typically best to pay down old debt before acquiring more."

Gardiner, enjoying the whole confusing conversation almost as much as Darcy said, "A good principle most of the time in business, Sir. I see no reason it should not be applied universally."

"Exactly! And I should say that, in general, absent a compelling emergency, it is best to have the courtesies before substantive conversation."

"Yes, it helps to secure an even footing, and frankly, if you do not begin with the courtesies, there is never a good time to start."

Elizabeth laughed lightly, and added, "So, by that reasoning, Mr. Darcy, the proper sequence should be instruction, overdue courtesy, current courtesy and finally interpretation."

"Very sensible, Miss Bennet, although my more reckless self shall mourn the loss of the tea leaves."

"But not the scat?"

Both laughed somewhat openly, not overly worried about what the Bingleys thought about it.

"Miss Bennet, would you allow me to handle the instructions?"

"Of course, it is your house… or your drive, anyway."

Everyone noticed that it was quite unusual to carry on such a conversation in the drive, but the tableau seemed appropriate for such an odd conversation, and nobody seemed inclined to change it. Of course, to Elizabeth, the conversation would not even count in the top quartile for odd conversations.

Darcy gave Elizabeth a look that said he had his own ideas about that reply but decided to defer them.

"Very well, let us begin. Some in this party are not living up to the standards of common courtesy. Miss Bennet is far too polite to say anything directly, but all of you know that I am not bound by any such impediments."

Both of the Gardiners chuckled, but did not interrupt, while the Bingleys stared in confusion.

Darcy continued, "Proper courtesy requires the proper form of address. Whatever language you speak in, it does have conventions that should be followed. So, _Bingley_…"

He turned his attention on his friend, who had been doing his best to follow the conversation, but he felt like he came into the middle of it.

Bigley turned to face Darcy, waiting for what was to come.

"You have twice referred to Miss Bennet, as 'Miss Elizabeth'. She is 'Miss Bennet'. Absent her elder sister in the same group, she would have been Miss Bennet regardless, but things are simpler now. There is no elder Miss Bennet, as she has surrendered the name in favor of Mrs. Jameson. This young lady will remain Miss Bennet in all situations, until she surrenders the name to Miss Catherine. That was one of the bits of news I planned to acquaint you with."

Miss Bingley smirked and gave a sigh of relief that the entirely unsuitable Miss Jane Bennet was now forever out of reach for her knuckleheaded brother.

Bingley looked startled, but his natural amiability soon took hold, and he quickly said, "My apologies, Miss Bennet. I see that old habits die hard, and I hope I have not offended you. Might you convey my sincerest congratulations to Mrs. Jameson."

Elizabeth decided not to point out that addressing her by 'Miss Elizabeth' was hardly the worst of his offenses, and decided graciousness was the order of the day.

"I shall be happy to, Mr. Bingley. I am certain she will appreciate the sentiment appropriately."

Bingley looked confused by the answer, but she thought that sorting out the meaning of 'appropriately' was something he could work out on his own, at his leisure. It seemed unlikely he would come to the obviously correct conclusion that _'appropriately' = 'not at all'_, but his conclusion would have no bearing on her happiness.

Darcy continued, "In the same vein, Miss Bingley…"

Elizabeth raised her eyebrow in surprise, but said nothing, while the Gardiners looked on curiously.

"I did not object to discourtesy in Netherfield, partly because it was not my house, and partly, as Miss Bennet well knows, I practiced discourtesy myself until I was nearly a master. However, here and now, in _my _home, I have been made aware of my shortcomings in the realm of manners and have made quite a number of corrections. I owe a debt to the person who taught me that my pride was _not _under good regulation, so I shall try to repay it by giving you the benefit of the same counsel."

The lady was looking at the gentleman in confusion and horror, though at that moment, it would have been difficult to tell which emotion was predominant.

"Even while there was another Miss Bennet present, her title was 'Miss Elizabeth', absent explicit permission to use a nickname. She was _never _Miss Eliza, Miss Lizzy or any other diminutive for any but the closest of friends, which I can say with assurance, was an honor for which nobody residing at Netherfield qualified."

By that point, the woman was staring in horror, while Darcy mostly ignored her. She thought he might as well have beat her with his riding crop, while he thought that a nasty duty was complete, and he did not need to think about it any longer.

Elizabeth watched her with great interest, something like she would do with a Praying Mantis should she ever manage to see one.

Miss Bingley eventually saw the wisdom of at least pretending to go along, so she said, "My apologies, Miss Bennet. I meant no harm."

The transparency of the lie was almost insulting, since Miss Bingley obviously assumed Elizabeth was either as stupid as she was, or at least would not say anything discourteous. At least in that respect, she was correct. Elizabeth had no intention of saying anything discourteous to the woman. She had Mr. Darcy to take care of that sort of thing.

She said, "I accept your apology, Miss Bingley. I believe that concludes the instructional phase of the discussion, Mr. Darcy?"

"I believe so."

"Well, I suppose it is time to move on to the next topic."


	52. Overdue Courtesy

Darcy said, "Yes, the next topic is about due. Speaking of courtesy, I should like to offer everyone refreshments. Should we repair to the house?"

Elizabeth said, "If nobody objects, I would prefer to finish my other topics first. They will not take long."

Darcy nodded, and held his hand out in a way to politely indicate she should proceed. Since nobody objected, Elizabeth began, "Now we are on to _overdue courtesy._"

She turned toward the Bingleys, curtsied_ very _politely, and said, "Miss Bingley, I am afraid I owe you an apology. You see, I did not greet you properly in our most recent encounter in November. My only excuse is, that at the time of our meeting, _I was momentarily distracted by the six‑foot wall of muddy water from your coach's wheels that was about to overwhelm me._"

**"WHAT!**", Bingley and Darcy both shouted in unison, while staring at her in consternation and various levels of anger. Bingley was clearly apoplectic, but Darcy… well, after the initial outburst he became as calm as a statue, which was considerably more frightening.

Elizabeth calmly said, "My apologies, perhaps I was not clear enough, or precise enough. By 'six-foot wall of muddy water', I was referring to a mixture of mud and water, (which may have included some sand, pebbles and small unfortunate creatures), whose peak height was approximately six‑feet, that your coach covered myself and my sister with, the day after the Netherfield ball, when you abandoned Netherfield without a word. Let me be more precise. I can verify the height was greater than five feet, since it covered my bonnet from front to back uniformly, and a pebble on the back edge of my head proves it was not through wicking from the front or sides."

Both men were staring at her hard, looking both shocked and confused, so she continued blithely.

"I had to estimate the overall height of the wave by calculating the trajectory based on the distance from the edge of the puddle to the trailing edge where it landed in the grass behind me, so I could easily be off by half a foot. The geometry is simple enough, but it _was _mud, and I had no measuring instruments. Therefore, if you are searching for clarity, I should update my statement to indicate the range of the estimate, as well as potential errors. Therefore, I must say that I was in the process of being inundated by a 5.5‑6.5 ± 10% wall of water, which would indicate somewhere between five and seven feet… roughly."

Caroline Bingley snapped out of her stupor first, and said, "I cannot believe this is possible, _Miss Bennet._ Are you quite certain it was our carriage? I believe you are mistaken. I would remember such an incident, and I can assure you that no such thing happened."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, Miss Bingley, I suppose we have a difference of opinion, but I have made my apologies, so we may dismiss the entire discussion."

Belatedly seeing the precariousness of her position, Caroline said, "Well, perhaps it is possible our coachman was executing his duties poorly. I shall dismiss him at once. I am certain I knew nothing of it."

Bingley belatedly said, "I assume you are absolutely certain, Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth looked at him, wondering if he would ever finally grow up. She said, "Well, Mr. Bingley, what do you require to indicate certainty. I can assure you that being covered in mud from boots to bonnets is not an experience one can confuse with any other, so I am certain the event _happened_. Your sister has offered two alternate explanations that contradict my opinion about cause and effect; although to be fair, her two explanations also contradict each other. How do you plan to resolve it, if at all?"

Bingley stared at her for a moment, belatedly realizing that he was being tested – and not doing well. He replied, "That is simple, Miss Bennet. I take you at your word. The incident happened, exactly as described. Are you _certain_ my sister was _aware_ of it and did not offer assistance? _Could _the fault be with the coachman alone?"

Somewhat mollified by the answer, she said, "Well, she certainly did not stop to offer assistance. As to her awareness, my sister Mary saw her starting at us through the window and smiling, so she either saw us, or she was daydreaming with her eyes wide open and to be honest, probably vacant if she did not notice a show like that. Now, Sir, I realize this would be considered hearsay evidence and not admissible in a court, but you are welcome to question my sister yourself. She is now Mrs. Mary Collins, and she can be found at the parsonage in Hunsford Village in Kent."

Spitting in rage, Miss Bingley apparently decided to demonstrate the principle that _angry people are not always wise. _She nearly shouted, "_I will not be slandered in this way._ Brother, can you not see the arts and allurements being applied right here in front of your face? Wake up, Brother! It never happened!"

Surprisingly calmly, Elizabeth said, "Slandered? What do you mean, Miss Bingley? I clearly remember the past two minutes of conversation, and I was merely giving you the courtesy that was overdue, along with my explanation for the overdue manners. I certainly meant no slander, as I have accused you of nothing more than lack of awareness, and to assist you in making your two different stories agree with each other, even if not with mine."

"Once again, I repeat. It… did… not… happen!"

Elizabeth said, "Well, I suppose we are done with the topic, then. Shall we move onto the next item of _current courtesies_?"

Bingley, who had been watching the interaction in abject horror, said, "_Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done._"

Elizabeth almost admired the forthright way he was speaking… almost.

"Well, Mr. Bingley, perhaps you are not finished with the topic, but I am. We are at an impasse, with conflicting interpretations of what occurred. No real harm was done, and probably some good in the end. All of my sisters _learned a great deal _from the experience, and are the richer for it, so I am content that the subject has been exhausted."

Darcy waded in saying, "Miss Bennet, might this be an example of the one thing you are terrible at and the other that you are very good at?"

Everyone stared at her, and Elizabeth, squirming slightly, said, "Mr. Darcy refers to the fact that I am a terrible liar but an excellent prevaricator. I will plead guilty as charged, Mr. Darcy, but I do not feel any need to add any more commentary on the subject."

"Do you object if _I do, Miss Bennet?"_

Elizabeth startled to once again hear someone she had not noticed sneaking up on her, (or perhaps clomping up on her but she was too busy to notice), but she chuckled when he continued.

"My apologies, Miss Bennet. It seems the less polite of us are always creeping up on you. Perhaps all men should be required to wear a bell or something."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Well, that might not do well for the horses, Mr. Newton, but I would certainly find it convenient. All will be forgiven after you have spent a quarter hour talking to be about mathematics, and a half hour would put you quite back in the top of my good books."

Everyone but the two of them seemed completely befuddled by the conversation, and Gardiner said, "You obviously know this man, Lizzy. Does he have something to add to the discussion? I must admit to a bit of fascination myself, regardless of how bored you are with the affair… and that is without even starting on why you know a coachman appears to be an aficionado of mathematics."

Newton laughed and said, "I will be happy to enlighten you at your convenience, Mr. Gardiner. As to the rest, I could add something to this tale, but certain conditions prevent any disclosure."

Then he turned back to Elizabeth and said, "Your injunction seems to have outlived its usefulness, Miss Bennet. Would you object to lifting it? And of course, you would need to speak for Mrs. Collins as well. If not, I will not intrude in your business any further."

Elizabeth was not certain she liked being backed into the corner, even if it _was _Mr. Newton, but since her hair was on fire from a blaze she had started herself, she had no valid reason to complain.

Bingley, not quite following the interaction was fuming, and said, "Do you know something of this affair, Mr. Newton? If so, _why is your employer the last to know?"_

Elizabeth thought she was a bit happy to see some fire coming from the man. It was misdirected, and too little too late, but better than nothing.

Newton looked calmly at his employer, as if he had all day, then turned back to Elizabeth with a quirk of his eyebrow that indicated the next move was hers.

With a sigh, Elizabeth said, "Mr. Newton, the prohibition has served its purpose. I release you on behalf of myself and my sister. You may speak or remain silent as you choose."

"You know perfectly well that 'remaining silent' is not one of the options on the table, Miss Bennet. By your leave?"

Elizabeth nodded, and he turned back to Bingley, who was still looking like he wanted to kill something or someone.

"I will answer your last question first, Mr. Bingley. I worked most of my life for the gentry, as did my father, and his father and his father. We like things that way. I came to work for you as a favor to Mr. Darcy."

Bingley snapped his head to stare at Darcy, who just nodded, not particularly perturbed.

"Now, in my family, we do things the old way, Mr. Bingley. When a _lady_ asks a _coachman_ to hold his tongue, absent some concern for her safety, we hold our tongues. Miss Bennet and Mrs. Collins specifically and clearly asked a promise of silence from Kep and I. We followed her request."

"Well, the injunction has been lifted, so I should like to understand it. What happened?"

"We came upon the ladies around a minute or two after the incident. We were driving the wagon with the furniture instead of the coach because one of the horses required special care. I can tell you for a fact that her estimates are correct. Both ladies were covered from top to bottom in muddy water. I looked at the road, which was as easy to read as a book. It was the last rightward shallow curve before Meryton. Do you remember it?"

Bingley nodded.

"Well, Sir, your coach was going at a brisk trot, far too fast for that road, and far too fast for being that close to a village; apparently at Miss Bingley's explicit direction. He never slackened the pace even once. I believe he did not see the ladies, although that is bad enough. According to the tracks, Miss Bennet dragged her sister out of the path of the coach just in time to be covered in mud rather than killed. Mrs. Collins, Miss Mary at the time, told us she saw Miss Bingley looking at her and smiling. If your sister wants to call Mrs. Collins a liar, I suppose that is her privilege, but the Bennets are at the very least consistent."

Bingley said, "And? What happened then?"

"Well, Sir, we did the obvious. We covered them with blankets and greatcoats. Kep fetched water and rags from the stream to help them clean up. We discussed what to do at some length and asked their permission to inform you. They asked us to keep the incident quiet, for their own reasons, which are none of my business. We took them back to Netherfield, asked the housekeeper to get them bathed, and Kep went to Longbourn to fetch the elder Miss Bennet with clean clothes."

"So, my coachman nearly killed someone, and yet he is _still _driving my coaches because you promised a lady to remain quiet."

"Oh, he is not driving like that anymore. His skills have been… enhanced."

Bingley looked confused, and so Newton continued, "The ladies prohibited us from speaking to _you_, Sir. They did however raise no objection to us applying some of what we call 'instruction' to the coachman. He will not repeat the offense, Sir."

Looking confused and thrashing around for something to say, Bingley asked, "How did this transformation of his skills and attitude come about?"

Kep rather loudly cracked his knuckles, while his father said, "Sir, with your permission, I stay out of your business, so you need not interfere in mine. He is dealt with according to our traditions."

Bingley stared back and forth, and finally said, "Well, I trust you, Mr. Newton so we shall speak no more of it. I thank you for your candor."

"It is only your due, Sir… but it is my pleasure."

He turned to Elizabeth and said, "And I thank you for releasing me, Miss Bennet."

She laughed, and said, "A quarter-hour, Mr. Newton."

He just laughed, bowed and said, "It will be my pleasure, Madam."

Caroline had been starting in consternation at the entire debacle, and opened her mouth to speak, but was forestalled by her brother.

"NOT… One… Word… Caroline! Not a single sound is to come out of your mouth."

She started to ignore him as usual, and he continued speaking.

"Darcy, do you object to loaning me some horses. I believe we could make another two hours towards Scarborough if we leave soon. I am not inclined to pollute the shades of Pemberley with my sister's presence, or mine for that matter."

Elizabeth said, "Do not leave on our account, Mr. Bingley. I beg you."

Bingley, somewhat improperly walked away from the small group until he stood only two or three feet in front of Elizabeth and said, "May I ask a completely impertinent question before we leave, Miss Bennet?"

Caroline nearly screamed, "Leave… are you out of your mind, Charles?"

Bingley said, "Caroline, I said 'not one word'. Suppose we make a new rule. I have control over your allowance, which you never manage to stay within. As of today, you will never be allowed credit to exceed it again, and I will deduct £50 per annum from it for every word I hear between now and when I give you leave to speak, whether that is in an hour or a month."

She sputtered and started to speak, but it came out as a cross between a growl and a squeak, to which Bingley just said, "There goes the first 50. Do not test me."

He stared at his sister until she finally bit her tongue and remained silent, then returned his attention to Elizabeth.

She saw him stare at her in a manner that might have been quite disconcerting six months previously, but at that point, it was just about business as usual, and even on the lower side of her awkwardness scale, hardly above the fifth percentile.

At long length, Bingley said, "You know, Darcy, you were right."

A bit startled, both by the abrupt change in conversation and the disconcerting way Bingley was looking at _his Elizabeth,_ Darcy said, "I fear that in that case, you are wrong, Bingley. I was both factually incorrect about the eldest Miss Bennet, and entirely improper in sticking my nose in your business. I have apologized to the lady, but I owe you one as well."

Bingley said, "Oh, that was not my meaning… although if you feel like chastising yourself about giving me well meaning advice because it makes you feel better, when I was too stupid to think for myself, feel free; although I would rather not listen to it. No, I was thinking of another topic entirely."

Puzzled, Darcy scrunched his eyes, and said, "Perhaps you could rephrase that with more specificity, Bingley. At this point, I am not following you any better than your sister is. In fact, I would hazard a guess that not even Miss Bennet or Mrs. Gardiner can follow you, which is saying something."

Bingley chuckled, and said, "You were right about Miss Bennet… the _present _Miss Bennet that is standing right here."

Darcy shook his head and looked at Elizabeth. She seemed more amused then concerned, and a glance at the Gardiners showed them to be in the same state.

Mrs. Gardiner said, "Do not worry about us, Mr. Darcy. We have paid good money and stood in far worse crowds for half the entertainment at Ascot."

Gardiner added, "Pray continue, Mr. Bingley. I see the trick you used to gain our attention, so do not waste it."

Bingley just chuckled, and said, "Mr. Gardiner, you overstate the quality of my thinking by at least double, but I suppose I should start trying to reduce the confusion, rather than increasing it."

Elizabeth laughed, finding much to her surprise that she again liked Mr. Bingley at least a little, and said impertinently, "Well, if you want to be a spoilsport…"

Bingley looked like she had given him the greatest of gifts, and said, "Well, Darcy was right. You are the politest person I have ever met, and yet, without a single unkind word you have given my sister and I chastisements I shall not soon forget."

Elizabeth had no idea how to respond, but was saved the bother when Darcy said, "I hope I am not embarrassing Miss Bennet when I say this, but she is like a combination of the softest kid gloves and a set of blacksmith's tongs."

The lady _was _in fact quite embarrassed by the statement, but on the other hand, she was not distressed by it.

Darcy looked at her carefully, and Elizabeth assumed he was making certain she was not alarmed by his words. She gave him quite a bright smile, and once she had his attention, she winked, when she was certain that only he could see it.

Darcy smiled, and continued, "Bingley, if you are to go, I will need to condense what I planned to speak to you about. My advice to you is to learn from this experience. I have been through something similar, and I believe I am the better for it."

"I most certainly shall", Bingley said.

Darcy said, "I was wrong about the eldest Miss Bennet, but in the end, it probably worked out for the best. Neither you nor I were prepared to be good husbands. I have learned quite a lot recently, and if you wish my last piece of advice, I suggest you endeavor to do the same, before you try your hand at courting again."

Bingley nodded, and said, "All right. I suspect you are correct. I know what to do, or at least where to start. I believe Caroline and I might sequester ourselves from society for some time to try to understand it."

"**Charles**, you cannot be serious!"

Bingley just chuckled, and said, "Well, we are up to £250/annum. Shall we try for 300?"

Elizabeth said, "Please do not do so on account of anything I said, Mr. Bingley."

Bingley chuckled and said, "Miss Bennet, if a ship was foundering in a storm at sea, would you censure the very last raindrop that sent it to its watery grave?"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Well, Mr. Bingley, when you came back to Mr. Darcy for more advice, as I am certain you will, and much to both of your credits; you may skip the lesson on abusing analogies to death. I believe you have mastered the skill."

Bingley laughed, and said, "Point taken, Miss Bennet. Now, I believe we are finished with 'overdue courtesies'. We all seem to have worked out each other's names, so perhaps we might skip 'present courtesies' and skip right to 'interpretation' before my sister and I depart."

Elizabeth smiled, nodded, and thought that there just might be something to Charles Bingley after all… or there might be eventually. She said, "I would be happy to, Mr. Bingley."

She turned, and said, "Mr. Darcy, with your permission?"

The gentleman nodded and smiled.


	53. Interpretation

Darcy said, "Before we begin, Miss Bennet, I am curious how you knew I speak Spanish. It is not a topic we discussed."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "My father told me you spend an afternoon reading _Don Quixote._ He said you had trouble with the archaic language, but otherwise seemed somewhat skilled."

Darcy nodded, and said, "That explains it, then. I had quite forgotten the book that afternoon, to tell the truth. Mr. Bennet and I had quite an intense discussion about a wide range of topics, which was better retained in my memory."

Elizabeth wondered what a 'wide range' of topics consisted of, but she suspected that regardless of the range of discussion, they most likely centered on a single topic.

Instead of commenting it, she said, "He also said something _else _interesting, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy quirked an eyebrow, so she continued.

"When you finished, he said you asked to see _the other copy_."

Darcy started looking nervous while trying to bluff, asked, "Which other copy is that?"

"The one in the cabinet of course."

Darcy started fidgeting, so Elizabeth continued.

"Father asked if I told you about the cabinet, which I assured him, I had not. I subsequently asked Jane, William... err… Mr. Collins, Mary and the Gardiners. It seems nobody told you about it."

He stammered a moment, and finally said, "Lucky guess!"

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Lucky yes – guess no. It was you, was it not?"

He just nodded, and said, "We can discuss it later if you like."

She just smiled and said, "No need. I know all I need. On behalf of myself and my sisters, I thank you most wholeheartedly."

Darcy snorted, and said, "Thank me… Are you mad? Your father has a Gutenberg."

The Gardiners nodded in sudden understanding, while the Bingleys looked on in confusion, but they did not say anything.

Elizabeth said brightly, "Well, is it time for interpretation?"

Darcy grinned and said, _"__Por supuesto!__"_

Elizabeth laughed gaily and said, "Well, let us begin. I opened with '_Buenas Tardes, Señor Darcy. Espero que nuestra visita inesperada no le cause ninguna molestia.' _That was standard courtesy. Something like, _'Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy. I hope you do not mind an unannounced visit?'_"

Gardiner said, "Well, I believe I managed to follow that much."

"Mr. Darcy very courteously replied with, '_Por favor, considérese en su casa'_, a typical Spanish welcome., _'Please, consider yourself at home.'_, or in typical English, _'make yourself at home.'"_

Darcy said, "Yes. I was surprised to see you here, but quite happy, I can assure you."

Elizabeth gave him a small smile, and continued, "Well, at that point I reckoned that a little impertinence might not be amiss, so I said, _'Le agradezco su gentil bienvenida; ¿debo entender sus amables palabras en sentido figurado o al pie de la letra?'_ I basically asked him if I should take it literally or figuratively."

Mrs. Gardiner stared at her niece, and asked, "A curious choice of response, Elizabeth. Well beyond impertinence, I would say."

Darcy replied quite carefully, "Well, I can understand your concern, Mrs. Gardiner, but I ask you this – do the rules of propriety even apply when speaking in another language?"

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Perhaps I should write to Charlotte Lucas. She is my tutor on the subject, but I believe it never came up."

Darcy said, "Well, if you want to write to Miss Charlotte Lucas, you might want to be expeditious. I am not entirely certain she will retain that name much longer."

Curious, Elizabeth asked, "Oh – and what might you expect it to become?"

"Mrs. Oakley."

Elizabeth smiled hugely, and said, "Well, good for her. Good for both of them."

"You know Oakley", Darcy asked in some confusion?

"Yes, I met him at a ball. I am proud to say I introduced them."

Darcy showed some initial surprise, but it only lasted a few seconds before he chuckled, "Of course you did."

Mr. Gardiner said, "Well, might we come back to the literal versus figurative question. We seem to have gone astray."

Elizabeth looked back, and said, "Well, Mr. Darcy answered, _'Como usted prefiera, puesto que ambas interpretaciones son correctas.'_, which basically means 'both', or literally,_ 'As you wish, because both interpretations are correct.'_"

Nearly everyone in the group appeared to be puzzled, judging by the looks on their faces. At long last, Mr. Gardiner decided to ask the obvious question, "All right, Elizabeth… perhaps you need to translate from English to English, because I do not quite follow."

"Well, Uncle, it is really quite simple. Let us begin with the obvious. The _figurative_ part was Mr. Darcy inviting us to stay at Pemberley for as long and as often as we like."

Gardiner looked carefully at his niece, then at Darcy, and back and forth a couple times before saying, "That is an awful lot of, let us say, stretching of what was said, Lizzy."

Darcy said, "No, Mr. Gardiner, it is not a stretch of any sort. Miss Bennet understands enough of my character that she perfectly comprehends what I am thinking better than I do myself. You can be assured that you are welcome. My friends are _always _welcome in my home, although if I must quibble, I would somewhat forwardly request you bring your children next time. Pemberley has not had the sound of little running feet for entirely too long."

Mr. Gardiner had not quite regained his equilibrium, but Mrs. Gardiner said, "Well, we would be happy to comply at our next opportunity, Mr. Darcy. Should we bring Kitty and Lydia to look after them?"

Darcy laughed, and said, "Aha, I can see where Miss Bennet gets her impertinence from. Bring both if you please. Perhaps you might even bring Mr. and Mrs. Bennet as well."

Gardiner choked down a laugh, and said, "Let us not get carried away, Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth smiled, quite enjoying the banter, while the Bingleys wondered what in the world had happened to the staid and always proper gentleman they had always known.

Mrs. Gardiner said, "Well, that seems to take care of the _figurative_ interpretation. How about the _literal_? May I presume you were not offering my niece employment?"

Everyone else almost stopped breathing, as they all stared at Elizabeth.

She smiled and looked carefully at Darcy for permission.

He simply smiled, and nodded, so she said, "Well, that one is easily understood in broad outlines, but the specifics are a touch vague. Mr. Darcy asked for either a formal courtship or my hand in marriage. It is difficult to tell when you are speaking both metaphorically and in another language."

Everyone in the group gasped in surprise, except for Darcy, who just looked at Elizabeth and smiled. He was most gratified to see her smile in return, though he was not all that surprised. Despite many hours of practice, he still believed that _his Elizabeth _could have used an opening like that to ask for the hand of the Prince Regent, and he would have given her at least 50:50 odds of success.

Elizabeth asked, "Did I misinterpret your suggestion, Mr. Darcy."

He chuckled, and said, "No, you did not."

"So, might you resolve the ambiguity since I offered two potential interpretations."

Darcy said, "Mr. Gardiner, might you write down today's date. It may be important later."

"How so, Darcy?", Gardiner asked, feeling either completely out of sorts or completely amused.

"Well, Sir, two things of note happened today. I believe I bested Miss Elizabeth Bennet in a subject of logic, which I doubt will ever happen again, and she also complained of ambiguity, thought I do believe she thrives in it and finds unambiguous subjects tedious and repetitious."

Elizabeth had almost forgotten the Bingleys… or actually, she had entirely forgotten them, until she heard a screech, saying, "This cannot be true! Mr. Darcy, you must deny this post-haste! She is trying to entrap you!"

Elizabeth looked at the woman, who had turned completely red, a color that clashed horribly with her dress and her hair, which come to think of it, clashed with each other even before the altercation.

Bingley said, "Hm… what say you, Darcy. I count 17."

"Yes, I believe so, but Miss Bennet could tell you without counting."

"There were 17", she said.

Bingley turned to his sister, and said, "Well, there goes another £850, Caroline. I would suggest more silence, and it goes without saying that this is a private conversation, and should rumors of its contents escape this group, I will _assume_ you are the culprit and cut you off entirely. Am I clear?"

She stared in abject horror, so Bingley continued, "Just nod your head if you agree."

She reluctantly did so, and Bingley turned back to Darcy, saying, "I apologize for interrupting such an important conversation. I cannot say how sorry I am."

Darcy said, "I wish you would not. The conversation is doing just fine. Your sister adds a certain 'spice' to it."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Well, I ordinarily prefer a plain dish to a ragout, but I find I agree in this case."

Bingley laughed, and said, "Well, Miss Bennet. You and Darcy seem to know an awful lot about each other that the rest of us are unaware of. Would it be impertinent of me to ask Darcy to explain _the honour of his triumph?_"

Everyone except Caroline laughed, although most of them had no idea what was actually happening.

Darcy said, "Should I explain, Miss Bennet?"

"I would appreciate it."

"You see, I believe I have found your Achille's Heel. This is another sequencing problem with mismatched prerequisites."

"All right, it is a nice lure, and the cast was tolerable. I will bite."

"Did you know that many, if not most, in India think the English do everything backwards? We all want to fall in love and get married, where their marriages are quite frequently arranged. They think you get married and then fall in love."

Fascinated, Elizabeth asked, "I have not read about this. How does the system work?"

"Well, at the higher levels marriages are frequently more like business arrangements, much like English upper society. For most, though, their families try to pick suitable mates by matching up characteristics they think will suit over the long term."

Elizabeth nodded in thought, and said, "Well, the very ideal rails against my sensibilities, but it is difficult to judge if it rails against something fundamental, or it simply conflicts with many years of thinking the way an English lady is taught to think. I believe Charlotte would have been happy to be born into Indian society. It would have saved her a great deal of trouble and consternation."

Mrs. Gardiner said, "Well, this is indeed fascinating, but I am still unable to resolve this ambiguity… as well as completely unconvinced that all of us should be in such a public discussion."

Elizabeth said, "Perhaps, but I do not mind. Do you, Mr. Darcy? I think we can trust Mr. Bingley to keep his friend's confidence, and I believe we can trust Miss Bingley to keep quiet as the grave about anything that might help me do whatever it is that I am supposedly doing."

Darcy laughed, while Miss Bingley scowled, but nodded in agreement… or defeat.

Darcy said, "Well, now we come to the ambiguous part. I fully intend to court Miss Bennet for the foreseeable future the way a woman should be courted by a man. Whether that courtship happens before, during or after a wedding ceremony will make little difference. Should we come to an agreement, I will follow any sequence she desires."

Elizabeth gasped to see it spoken so plainly. She should have been prepared for the bald declaration since she had started the rock rolling down the hill in the first place, but to have the words spoken so plainly filled her with trepidation.

Darcy took the opportunity to walk over in front of her, only a couple of feet away, and held out his hands, palms up.

She took them without thought, and he said, "Now you know. This was not how I planned this. I intended something more subtle and… err… private, but I would like to court you and marry you, in whatever sequence you choose…"

Then he smiled engagingly, and added, "… at your earliest convenience."

The coupe stood there staring at each other in some wonder, both trying to figure out how they had painted themselves into such a public corner and wondering what came next.

Darcy recognized the moment when he might have gone too far, because he saw the telltale signs of an impending thought storm brewing. It looked as if _his Elizabeth _had bit off more than she could chew right at that moment, so he simply followed the time honored and efficient technique as instructed. He very gently reached over and kicked her, watched her startle. He leaned in and whispered only for her, _"Your sister described the signs and instructed me to do that."_

Then he stood back up straight, held his arm out, and said, "I can see this wagon has run away from us, and we both need to be moving to make sense of it… you more than me. May I have the pleasure, Elizabeth?"

She smiled, and said, "I hate to be rude but…"

Mrs. Gardiner said, "Do not hold back on our account, Elizabeth."

Darcy said, "Bingley, if you would be so kind, I would ask you to spend the night. You can leave at first light if you like, but I would feel churlish sending you out this late. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner… are you of a mind to accept the invitation?"

Gardiner thought a moment, and said, "Much as we would like to, Mr. Darcy, I feel it would not be quite correct."

Darcy snapped his head back, and said, "How so, Sir?"

Gardiner stepped closer and spoke softly enough to only be overheard by Darcy and Elizabeth, "You two seem to have painted yourself into a corner, and you need room to maneuver. You cannot have your betrothed staying in your home, so if we retain our present lodgings, we do not remove any of your alternatives."

Darcy nodded, and said, "Understandable, Sir. Should you prefer to return to the Inn, or go inside for refreshments?"

Gardiner looked at his wife, and said, "I trust Mrs. Reynolds to see to our needs, Mr. Darcy. Go have your walk before Lizzy starts chewing her fingernails, which I can assure you is an experience you might wish to defer."

He turned to his niece, and said, "Should we send a footman, Lizzy. You know the stakes."

Elizabeth thought about the potential damage to her reputation should she walk alone with the gentleman, and decided it was of no importance.

"I have walked alone with Mr. Darcy before in the past, and I expect to do so in the future, regardless of how we resolve his 'suggestion'. I will be fine, Uncle."

"Very well. Off with you", then more loudly, "Mr. and Miss Bingley – shall we see what Mrs. Reynolds has cooked up for us."

* * *

_A/N: That's it for the day, gang. I considered delaying until the next scene is complete, but I didn't want to torture you. Hope you liked it._

_Wade_


	54. Painting Corners

_A/N: Hey gang, getting close to the end. Two chapters left. This one is on the longish side. Enjoy it. Wade_

* * *

For the first half-hour of the walk, Elizabeth and Darcy did not discuss anything of particular note. For the lady's part, she was certain her uncle was either having the time of his life examining the Bingleys and trying to work out what their congenital defect was; or the Bingleys might have gone upstairs to hide, leaving the Gardiners to be entertained by Mrs. Reynolds. They would be perfectly happy and comfortable in either situation for a number of hours, so she was not in the least concerned about her relatives, and she could concentrate on the task at hand.

Darcy spent the time telling her all about the paths they crossed, where they went, what the relative elevation was, how long the loop was, what sights could be seen and whether some hypothetical lady walking alone could safely see the house and work her way back, if, completely hypothetically, she walked longer than planned and it got dark or cold, or rained. Elizabeth found it all diverting.

They came to a path that was quite steep for a few hundred yards, so he looked at her in question. She accepted the challenge with a nod, and they carried on. It took five or ten minutes of hard climbing, and they arrived at the top panting and sweating, but otherwise quite composed. The gentleman asked if she would be opposed to a small surprise.

She agreed, so he asked her to cover her eyes, not quite trusting himself to perform the office himself, then led her over to a wooden bench, helped her sit, and then said, "All right, Elizabeth. Open your eyes."

She did as she was bid, sighed happily, and said, "Well, that is the fairest prospect I believe I have ever seen."

"I thought you might appreciate it. The building you see on the left is the orangery. I think you would like that, especially when it is raining. It seems like a magical place from a fairy tale. The music room Mrs. Reynolds showed you is the farthest window on the left on the second floor. The portrait gallery is on the far side of the house, so not visible from here."

"The music room was wonderful. May I blithely assume your mother is responsible for everything except the new pianoforte?"

Darcy chuckled, and said, "You can recognize my mother's handiwork?"

"Of course! As I suspect you know, Georgie gave me a mathematical puzzler about the decoration in London. Apparently, distinguishing your mother's taste from your grandmother is a task so simple that Miss Bingley could manage it, given enough instruction."

Darcy chuckled, and said, "Speaking of Miss Bingley, why did you prohibit the Newtons from telling us about the incident. You know perfectly well I would have done something about it."

Elizabeth paused, and then deciding it was time for serious conversation, took off her bonnet and set it carefully on the bench, then boldly took his hat off and set it beside the bonnet.

"That is better. I wonder when the fashion became that people should not be able to see each other when having polite conversation out of doors."

Darcy chuckled, and said, "Probably about the same time they decided it was best to delay uncomfortable answers."

"I am not afraid of you, and by now, you should know that I am not afraid of uncomfortable conversations."

Elizabeth paused, gathered her thoughts for a moment, and said, "It was a test, of sorts. Should Mr. Newton have made Miss Bingley's actions known, it would have created an _obligation_ for Mr. Bingley to return. If nothing else, he would have had to return to apologize, and make some sort of reparations. At the time, I suspected, obviously incorrectly, that you and Miss Bingley might have shared a good laugh over the matter, but there is no doubt that your friend would have returned."

"I see. From that, I would surmise you did _not _want him to return out of obligation."

"No, I wanted better than that for Jane. That is not to say that I try to direct her life, as I most certainly do not. I just wanted to support her in her stated goal of only marrying for love. If the gentleman returned, I wanted it to be either out of affection, or at the very least, because he was a man of his word, and he had made a promise. Should he have returned by his own desires, _then_ would have been the time to make him aware of his sister's malfeasance. The decision was not irrevocable. If Jane wanted Mr. Bingley to know about the matter, we could have asked my father to write to him, with the Newtons standing as witnesses."

"I must admit that it was the right thing to do. I admire the fact that you were dumped unceremoniously into such a situation and were able to think through it so clearly, while covered in mud and no doubt freezing."

Elizabeth chuckled, and said, "You give me too much credit, Fitzwilliam. I had Mary and the Newtons to assist."

"I see. So, to be clear, the idea to refrain from reporting was Mrs. Collins or one of the Newtons?"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "I see what you did there, and I will not be fooled."

They both chuckled, and then felt no more need to explore that particular subject. They sat in companionable silence for a minute or two, and Elizabeth said, "I really do like the house."

"Yes, I must say it is my favorite place in the world. The library is on the ground floor, the third and fourth windows from the right. The garden on the right side, just behind that stone wall has some lavender and roses that I think you might like. The window on the second floor to the right of the trellis is the mistress' suite. "

Elizabeth chuckled, disregarded the obvious ploy, and said, "I assume this prospect, _has been the work of many generations._"

Darcy just chuckled, and said, "I wonder how long it will be before you forget just one of the things I have said. I should hope that some of them would fade with time, as my behavior has, at times, been abhorrent."

"Well…", Elizabeth said, then paused for a moment, and continued, "Perhaps, a few of your actions have been, at the time considered objectionable, but in time they should all be forgot. _In such cases as these, a good memory is unpardonable._ _This is the last time I shall ever remember it myself."_

"I am not quite so sanguine about it."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, sanguine or not, it is time to put the past in the past. We have enough difficulty with the present, let alone the future."

"So, are we to talk about the future?"

"I suppose we must."

They both sat there a moment, wondering where to start, and Elizabeth finally said, "It is a funny expression my uncle used, _'painting ourselves into a corner'_."

"How so?"

"Well, like most such expressions, its meaning jumps immediately to mind, but does not survive close scrutiny. If you are painting a wall or a ceiling, when you reach a corner you simply carry on. The only time it is a problem is when you are painting a floor, and how often does that come up?"

Darcy chuckled, and said, "Do you spend all your time poking holes in common expressions?"

"Of course. Doesn't everyone?"

He chuckled, and said, "Well, if we are to be comprehensive, let me ask you this. Why is painting yourself into a corner so awful. At worst, all you have to do is sit down and go to sleep for a few hours to wait for the paint to dry."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Or, you could just step back into the paint, finish the rest of the corner, and back out, painting over your footsteps as you go, and then clean your boots when you are done."

"Well, if you wear good boots for painting a floor, you deserve what you get."

Getting into the spirit of the thing, she said, "Or, you could just _leave _the footprints, and carry on."

With a chuckle, he said, "Well, I suspect that if _you _ever did that, within a month every great house in London would be filled with footprints, and every ball would contain dozens of people with paint on their shoes. Entire new industries would spring up to provide fashionable footwear with paint on the bottom, and a guild would form to paint floors complete with footprints matching the master of the house."

By then, both parties were sniggering and laughing well out of proportion to the jest, but the line of discussion had served its purpose. They were both considerably less nervous than they had been.

Darcy said, "So, may I ask something impertinent?"

"Have you ever hesitated before?"

Darcy sighed, and said, "Well, in Hertfordshire, I not only hesitated, but I forcibly restrained myself."

"Well, we are neither in Hertfordshire nor Hunsford anymore. Perhaps, it is time to put all of that in the past. Ask your question, if you please."

Darcy noticed that they had been, perhaps unconsciously, sliding towards each other to where the distance was not _quite _proper, as if them being alone was anything but completely improper. He very reluctantly slid over a few inches so he could see her face clearly, and asked, "Well, here is my question. Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Back in the drive, I suspect you knew you had an entire room to paint, so why did you start in the middle of the floor and work towards a corner?"

Elizabeth looked confused for a moment, so he added, "Your interpretation of our words could have been done a half‑dozen ways. For example, the figurative could have been, _'we are friends who are always welcome'_, while the literal might be, _'we are invited to stay at Pemberley.'_ I am certain you could have come up with a half‑dozen other variants. _Why did you choose that one?"_

Elizabeth started at the ground for a moment, and said, "Well… perhaps I was emulating Cortes."

Darcy scrunched his head a moment, then said, "Ah… you mean you were burning your boats."

"Perhaps. I cannot say for certain. You know that I cannot lie well, and I _knew _what you meant. Even if I had tried to interpret it as something else, my aunt and uncle would know. They would have let it go, but they would have known, and…"

She sighed, while he reached over and took one hand gently.

"And..."

"… and perhaps, I just wanted to work this… this… well, whatever it is… out one way or the other."

Darcy gripped her hand a bit tighter, and said, "You mean _our courtship?_"

"We do not have a courtship", she snapped, and then wondered why she was snapping.

Darcy could see she was starting to feel _something,_ but he did not pretend he knew what it was. It could be fear, or annoyance, or an incipient mind storm."

He said, "Well, let us examine that assertion, since you like to do things logically."

She sighed, and said, "That would be sensible."

"How many people have you discussed _me specifically _with?"

Somewhat startled by the question, she replied, "Well, hardly anybody at all, really. In Hunsford, there is of course Mary, Anne, Lady Catherine, her steward, four of her tenants, seven of their children, and perhaps a half‑dozen parishioners. Then there is Jane, Mr. Jameson, Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, Mr. Oakley, Mr. Samson, your Uncle Darcy the Judge – I met him at a ball. Then I suppose you should count my father, my mother…", she said with a shudder, "… Kitty, Lydia, Charlotte Lucas, and perhaps a half dozen assorted people in Meryton. Of course, Georgie had to have her say as well, and your Aunt's stories of your misspent youth were hilarious. As I said, hardly anybody", she finished with a lazy smile.

Darcy chuckled, and said, "Well, let us just suppose we make a Venn Diagram out of it, with your circle being the people you talked to about me, and my circle being the converse. The circles would nearly completely overlap, as I have discussed _you _with about two thirds of the people you mentioned, as well as a few others."

"I suppose that makes sense."

Darcy leaned forward a bit more, so they faced each other only about a foot apart, and said, "Now, mathematically, try to make an order-of-magnitude estimate of the total number of words each of us have spent talking _about each other_ with other people; and compare that to the total number of words a typical courting couple would have before they came to an understanding. What would you say?"

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "I suppose we have already had far more words about each other than couples typically exchange, by at least double or treble, and possibly more."

"Well, I will admit it is unconventional, but I would definitely call that a courtship."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I suppose so. That does mean that we need to… well…"

Darcy gently said, "Something holds you back, Elizabeth. By your own admission, you find me at least adequate as husbandly material, perhaps requiring some polish, but no more than is typical of my sex… no?"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "You have polished yourself down to where there is hardly anything left, Fitzwilliam. There is nothing wrong with you."

Darcy looked at the ground a moment, and said, "I hope you do not feel a confidence has been broken, but I have been made aware that you found Mr. Oakley admirable as well, but almost immediately redirected him to your best friend."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "That is not a broken confidence. It is common gossip, but I do not oppose your knowledge of the affair. In fact, I approve as it saves me the trouble of telling you."

"So, what holds you back?"

Elizabeth started feeling nervous. Darcy still held her hand, and he noticed it and its companion clenching into fists.

Foregoing propriety entirely, he took the other hand and started rubbing circles on both hands with his thumb. Elizabeth hardly seemed to notice, but she did calm down.

He asked, "Are you uncertain of my affections, or my constancy?"

"Heavens no!", she exclaimed in surprise, adding, "If I was uncertain of that, we would not be here."

"So, from that I must presume you are uncertain of _your own affections, or your own constancy?_"

She sighed, and said, "Well, now we are getting closer."

"How so?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "It is difficult to say."

"You need not. Nothing says we have to resolve it today. Nobody else knows about my rather unorthodox request to court you, and there would be no shame or loss of reputation if we courted and decided against each other anyway."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "No, we need to resolve… something today… I…"

The gentleman just waited patiently a moment, and then said, "It seems to me you have a particular talent for resolving everyone else's problems but your own. You have even helped me. The only one that seems lost inside one of your little boxes is yourself."

Elizabeth chuckled, and said, "Do I have _any _family that is unwilling to tell you everything they know about me?"

Darcy saw this as an attempt to reduce her nervousness, and said, "Perhaps, though if there are any, I am unaware of them. You _do know _that they do it out of love and concern?"

"Yes, I know."

He stopped rubbing her hands, and clenched them tighter, then said, "Give yourself time, Elizabeth. Or tell me now. I sense you want to let it out. That is why you manipulated the situation to put us together right here and now."

"You think me capable of such manipulation", she asked in consternation?

He laughed, and said, "Do not say that like it is a bad thing."

She sighed, and said, "Well, I suppose I should tell you then. Do you remember, back in Hunsford, what I said right after I told you about my childhood?"

He thought furiously, and said, "You asserted, what was it, there was something _not quite right in your head._"

She nodded, and said, "Thank you for remembering. It was difficult enough the first time. You probably recall I said I would like to marry for the deepest love."

"Yes, I remember it."

"Well… I sometimes wonder if I am even capable of it."

Darcy gasped in shock, but got himself under better regulation almost instantly, and said, "What do you mean? Walk me through it."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, among every person I know, male or female, I am the _only one _who has _never even once _become carried away with infatuation. Every single other person I know has had some secret or not-so-secret pang of longing for _someone_, but I have not. I sailed through my formative years from fourteen to one and twenty with nary a twitch of infatuation. Even my friend Charlotte, ever sensible Charlotte Lucas who thinks you should know as little as possible about the man you will marry, had two nearly soul-crushing infatuations before she got so cynical after her third or fourth season. I alone seem to be immune."

Darcy thought about it for a moment, and said, "So, you mean…"

She sighed, and said, "Let me say it plainly. I esteem you. I respect you. I like you. I prefer your company to others… but… but…"

A tear escaped from her eye, and she did not even bother brushing it away, and said, "But, I do not know if I can _love you_. I just do not know if it is in me. You see, I am not at all certain that all is right in my head."

Darcy released one of her hands so he could use it to push her chin up to look at him, and said, "Let me be very clear, Elizabeth. The only thing wrong with that pretty head of yours is that it holds a face that I cannot look away from. I love that head and all it contains with enough force for the both of us."

Elizabeth startled at the strength of the statement, and eventually smiled nervously, but had no idea what to say.

Darcy asked, "Let us be analytical about it, shall we?"

She giggled, thinking she would have to be careful around this man, as he seemed to be learning all of her tricks at an alarming rate, but nodded.

"I know you usually make some sort of scale, but I will not do that. I will simply ask this. Estimate, on whatever terms you like, your 'affection' or 'infatuation' or whatever you wish to call it, over your lifetime. Pick the apogee… you do know what that means?"

Elizabeth laughed openly, since she was dead certain that he knew perfectly well she knew it was the apex or highest point of a curve, and nodded, happy that he was using his humor to make her less nervous.

"So, when was the point in your life when you were _closest _to what you think a wife should feel for her husband? At what point was your infatuation at its highest level. You need not define the delta between that feeling and the goal, just tell me the point in time."

Elizabeth said, "That is not fair."

"I agree. Was it fair to stick the present Mr. and Mrs. Jameson into a tiny little box in a public park in London?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Do you know _all _my secrets, Fitzwilliam?"

"Not yet."

She smiled ruefully, and said, "Well, I suppose I must answer. The point is easy enough to find. It was a couple dozen words into your proposal in Hunsford."

Relentlessly, he continued, "All right. Let us put that feeling aside for the moment, since by your own admission, I am as close as you have ever gotten to the feeling. I assume that you could easily estimate your feelings of esteem, respect and so forth at that moment in time."

"I suppose so."

"And have any of them changed _since then_?"

Elizabeth thought carefully, and said, "Well, to be honest, all of them have improved considerably. Between Georgie, your Aunt Catherine, Anne, your cousin the Colonel… well, everything I can say all of my other feelings for you have improved considerably."

Carefully, he said, "Suppose we made a chart, with a line denoting the minimum levels of each of these attributes that a couple should have to ensure a happy life together, would you say that I meet the mark on all the others except your 'affection' for me?"

Elizabeth thought carefully about it, not willing to give a slapdash answer, and finally said, "I will ask you to answer the same question, but for my part, yes. It is a strong yes. You meet, but more likely, greatly exceed the minimum. In almost all ways, we are the perfect match."

Darcy took his hand and cupped her cheek, and said, "Yes, you have the right of it. I can say that you exceed my wildest dreams on _all axes_. So, what are you afraid of, Elizabeth? Do not pretend that you fear we will not get along together. Do not pretend you fear we will not have a happy household full of talented and mischievous children. _Let us get to the heart of the matter. What are you really afraid of?"_

Elizabeth thought about it for a moment, though taking her attention away from his hand held lovingly on her cheek was difficult, and finally looked in his eyes, and said quite honestly, _"I am afraid I will hurt you._ I am afraid that I will _never _love you the way a woman should love her husband, and your love is so obvious, so implacable, so persistent, so intense… I am afraid I will destroy the best part of you. I am afraid we might find ourselves experiencing an unequal affection. It would be toxic, and corrosive. It would eventually destroy us both."

Darcy smiled, and said, "I cannot remember which ancient said it, but there is a common definition for love. _'Love is the condition where another's happiness is more important than your own.'_"

Elizabeth's mouth hung open in surprise for a moment, since that was something she had never thought about. Everything she had ever read about love talked about it from the point of view of the character's feelings, not their concern for anyone else's. It frankly felt somewhat selfish as it was usually described.

Darcy said, "If you will allow me the free use of your analogy, Elizabeth, you are masterful at seeing to the truth of someone else's feelings from outside their little box. You did that for me, and I would hope I am returning the favor."

She stared at him a moment, and said, "Please be clear, Fitzwilliam. What is it you want? What is it you _really _want?"

He smiled, and said, "Well, at the risk of sounding mad, I will say I want exactly the same thing I wanted in Hunsford, while simultaneously wanting the exact opposite."

She laughed, and said, "Why would that sound mad. Most of my thought process ends up that way most of the time. Perhaps you might add some _nuance _to that assertion?"

"When I entered the parsonage, I thought I knew both of us, and I wanted _you_. I wanted _you_ to accept _me_, or rather, I wanted _my idea of you_ to accept _my idea of myself._ Since that time, I have learned neither of us knew the other at all, and at the time, I did not even know myself. Now…"

He seemed to run out of words, and she squeezed his hand encouragingly.

"Now, I wish to openly acknowledge that I know myself a little better, I know you a little better, but neither of us truly knows the other. I wish for us to spend a lifetime learning about each other, growing, learning some more, and growing some more, so we can both die just a little bit less ignorant."

Elizabeth had to laugh at that last little bit, and she said, "Well, I can applaud the idea of reducing the world's ignorance. Since the two of us are quite likely to continue upsetting the total level of hubris in the wrong way, I suppose we must compensate by reducing the ignorance."

Both halves of the newly formed couple laughed uproariously, and then sat there staring at each other for a moment.

Elizabeth finally said, "Just this once, Fitzwilliam, I suppose we should speak our hearts and minds plainly, and in English."

He chuckled, and said, "Well, I suppose it would be a useful experiment, just to see what happens."

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, Sir… I can say without fear of error or contradiction that I like you. I esteem you. I wish to spend my time in your company. I wish to have you for a father to my children, and based on your definition, I almost certainly love you. I also…"

He squeezed her hands again, so she continued.

"I also suspect that, based on what I have been told, a kiss or two might resolve the ambiguity of whether I _feel _for you the way a wife should."

She smiled sheepishly, and moved her head, as closely as she could judge, exactly 40% of the distance that presently separated it from his.

He smiled, and said, "Well, I have no qualms about saying I love you with all my heart, and I am confident you will love me with the same vigor in the appropriate time. I admire you. I esteem you. I want you to be the mother of my children, and I wish to spend the rest of my life getting to know you."

He moved his head 40% of the distance between them, so they were nearly touching. They both looked at each other for a moment, and then by mutual agreement, closed the final 20% until their lips were gently touching.

Elizabeth had no idea what to expect. She had been told of everything from a bit of revulsion at the close contact to lightning falling from the sky to strike her dead. The reality was somewhere between. It was awkward and uncomfortable at first, but after a moment or two of clumsy fumbling around, she found the experience to be much closer to the lightning than she expected. At one moment she thought her heart might beat out of her chest, and the next moment she thought she might close her eyes and take a nap in perfect contentment.

They held the pose for some minutes, reveling in the contact, and trying to come to a place where the absolute pleasure was all that was left, with the fear and awkwardness at least partially left behind. They eventually achieved that, sometime after Darcy bodily picked her up and set her down on his lap, so she could wrap her arms around his shoulder.

At long last, they released the kiss, and she moved her arms down from the top of his shoulders, to tuck them against her chest so she could snuggle into his chest. She had to admit that this feeling of comfort was something she had not expected. Novels talked of strong raging emotions (good and bad), euphoria, excitement and impatience. Never once had she read about one talking about _comfort _and _rightness_.

"Fitzwilliam, is it wrong that I feel like I am sitting at home, near a roaring fire in my most comfortable chair, with a good book on my lap."

Darcy chuckled, and said, "Welcome home, my lovely bride. Welcome home."

Elizabeth giggled, and said, "Welcome home, Milo!"


	55. Fibonacci

_A/N: Last chapter, gang! Wade_

* * *

"Milo, eh", Darcy said, "I can see I might need to limit your access to Georgie."

"Did she tell you about that story?"

"Well, she abruptly decided to put herself into my Aunt Catherine's care for some sort of endurance training. I did not see her for some time, but I wrote to Aunt Catherine who told me to mind my own business."

Elizabeth giggled, saying, "Well, that seems… I am struggling between 'abrupt' and 'typical'. What do you recommend?"

They both had a laugh at that, and Darcy finally said, "Well, eventually we met when I visited your sister."

"More specific, if you please… I have four, and you seem to have spent more time at my home than I have in the last few months."

"I meant Mrs. Collins. I asked Georgie exactly what she was doing, and she said it was her turn to carry the bull for a while."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, I am happy to hear it."

"Shall I assume you are responsible for her abrupt change of residence? Oh, and she will be here in two days, by the way."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "I will be glad to see her. I suppose we have some arrangements to work out, and no, I did not send her to Rosings. That was entirely her own doing. She is however responsible for the _'Welcome home, Milo' _reference, but I suppose you can pry the story out of her. After she told me about Mr. Wickham, we were in a state where we went beyond polite conversation. That is all I will say on the subject. It is her story to tell."

"Understood", Darcy said, while marveling at the matter of fact way Elizabeth mentioned Wickham, basically saying, _'of course Georgie would tell a near stranger about the worst time of her life within hours of meeting her.'_

They sat in companionable silence for a while, occasionally speaking of this or that minor point. The sun was moving closer to sunset than noon when Darcy said, "I have an idea!"

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Well, let us have it."

"I think we should try a new communication method I read about in a book once. It seems radical, but it might be interesting."

"Why certainly", she replied playfully.

Elizabeth had reluctantly climbed off his lap some time earlier, mainly because his leg started to fall asleep, so they were sitting side by side, perhaps closer than propriety strictly demanded.

Darcy slid off the bench, faced her, went down on one knee, reached for her hand, and said, "Elizabeth Bennet, Love of my Life, will you do me the great honor of accepting my hand in marriage?"

Elizabeth giggled, and said, "Plain, unvarnished, unambiguous English. This is unprecedented."

Darcy just cocked an eyebrow at her, so she wagged a finger and said, "And now are back to non-verbalism."

With a smile, she slid off the bench to rest on the ground on her knees, took his other hand and said, "Fitzwilliam Darcy, you are indeed the love of my life, and it would be my great honor and pleasure to be your wife."

They sealed the bargain with another kiss, which lasted just about as long as it took for the rocks on the path to dig into their knees, then both jumped up, and laughing happily, they decided to take the long way back to the house.

"Fitzwilliam, that was a brilliant idea, speaking clearly and succinctly."

"I thought so."

"A good idea, _in moderation._"

They both chuckled, and walked some more, speaking of this and that.

When they left sight of the house and entered a shaded path, Elizabeth said, "Now that we are officially and unambiguously betrothed, I believe we have some arrangements to work out."

"Such as?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "I suppose we should follow the proper forms by asking my father's blessing, though technically it is not necessary, as I am of age, and to be honest, Uncle Gardiner would negotiate the settlement anyway. Of course, that is aside from the fact that, you will obviously just take my dowry out of one pocket and put it in another."

Darcy chuckled, but Elizabeth continued.

"Speaking of that, Fitzwilliam – when you bought the books, _did you know who and what they were for?_"

Darcy stared at the ground, and said, "Actually, I did not. Your brother, much to his credit, was careful to keep your confidence. I believe your sister Mary was concerned about fortune hunters, so all I had was an inventory of titles and publication dates. I did not recognize the handwriting as yours at the time. I did not work it out until after Hunsford."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, that makes me feel better. So, the arrangement makes financial sense."

"A library that has _been the work of many generations_, is also a library that generates a lot of expectations. Should I ever meet any of my ancestors in the afterlife, I would certainly like to establish some boasting rights."

Elizabeth chuckled, and said, "Well, I am happy to have contributed to your afterlife hubris."

They continued a moment, and then Darcy said, "About those arrangements – I may be able to simplify."

"Do tell."

Darcy smiled, and said, "Well, your father told me that should I ever find myself in want of a wife, that I could assume I have his blessing for any daughter whose age is on 'the sequence'." I asked him which sequence, and he said I would know, if and when the time came."

Elizabeth laughed gaily, slapped him, and said, "Please tell me you have worked it out by now."

Darcy grinned, but shook his head in confusion.

"Well, I suppose you may have forgotten one tiny little fragment of our conversation in Hunsford. I will forgive you this once."

"Pray, re-enlighten me, my lady!"

"It is the Fibonacci Sequence. I was calculating them in my head to calm myself down in Hunsford."

The reminder of Hunsford left the mood slightly altered, but Darcy said, "None of that! Hunsford was our turning point. All is as it should be. I am sorry we had to cause each other so much consternation, but I do believe we both emerged stronger. I will always remember Hunsford fondly."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, I shall do so as well. Shall I continue?"

"Please."

"Well, it is an interesting sequence that shows up quite often in mathematics and in nature. It seems related to everything from branching in trees to the shape of spirals to the Golden Ratio in painting. Each number is the sum of the previous two, so the beginning goes 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, **21**, 34, 55, 89, 144."

Darcy laughed, and said, "Well, unless I want to wait 13 years, I suppose I am stuck with you."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Where did you get 13? Father might have been thinking of 16 or 18 years, since he has two more daughters."

Darcy looked on in mock horror, while she laughed gaily.

Finally, after laughing together for a while, Elizabeth sighed, and said, "Well, that was diverting. I suppose we should discuss arrangements."

"The wedding is traditionally the purview of the bride, so what do you suggest?"

They walked a few more steps, and she said, "I suppose driving straight to Lambton, buying a common license, and marrying, with Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Newton as witnesses might send the wrong message. It is too late today anyway."

Darcy chuckled, and said, "It is funny that you picked those two in particular."

"Oh?"

"Well, Newton has determined that young Keppler is ready to be a head coachman, and I was planning to lure the elder away from Bingley."

"Oh, for what purpose", Elizabeth asked in genuine confusion?

"To be your coachman, of course. I suspect he has courting Mrs. Reynolds in mind, but it is not my business, so I cannot comment on it."

Elizabeth said, "What leads you to think I need my own coachman?"

"Well, perhaps we should procrastinate some more about the arrangements of the wedding and talk about _after_. You are aware that Pemberley has been without a mistress for well over fifteen years?"

"Yes", Elizabeth said with a sinking feeling.

"Our position in society has eroded, and it will be up to _us _to fix it. Some of that repair must be the two of us together, but I fear, a certain amount will fall to the mistress of the house. That is just the way it is. I assume this is no surprise to you?"

"No, I considered it… briefly."

"You will have a great amount of visiting and shopping to do both here and in town. I will shield you from what I can, but…"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "… do not concern yourself, Fitzwilliam. I know what I am getting into."

Darcy smiled, and said, "I should also mention that the Oakley estate is but forty miles away."

Elizabeth laughed openly, and said, "Well, Mr. Newton will have his work cut out for him."

Darcy chuckled, and said, "Well, I should also mention that the Langston estate…", and he paused abruptly, pulled out his pocket watch, and said, we must wait five minutes before I can complete that sentence."

Puzzled, Elizabeth decided if they had time to kill it might as well be productive, so she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him within an inch of his life. Their three minute window came and went, with neither party being the wiser.

After quite some time, Darcy said, "I do hope you are not inclined towards a _long engagement_."

"Not on your life but let us finish one sentence before we start another."

Darcy looked back at the watch, and said, "All right… _Correction! _The _Jameson_ estate is but thirty miles away, and in a direction about 45˚ away, with the three points forming something close to an equilateral triangle. That means that you, Mrs. Jameson and Mrs. Oakley will be just about equidistant from both us and each other."

Elizabeth was so happy she took her bonnet off, threw it in the air, and danced around singing. She took Darcy's hat and did the same thing, then grabbed his hands and made him dance around like children along with her. That naturally led to a certain _other _kind of dance, that mostly seemed to involve hands and lips, which was _not _traditionally performed in ballrooms.

After some time, they decided they would need to start moving if they wanted to make it back to the house before supper. They looked around for hats and bonnets, only to find the hat hung up in the branches of a tree, and the bonnet currently making its way along a branch, being dragged by a particularly vicious and intimidating looking squirrel. They both laughed and set of walking again, sans headwear.

The lady asked, "Any more surprises for me?"

"Well, I believe the parson in Kympton might be looking for a pension."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "Oh my, it seems all we will be missing is Kitty and Lydia to make our life complete."

Darcy said, "Well, there have been some developments along that front as well. I suspect we would need our best horses, and both Newtons to pry them out of Rosings. It appears Aunt Catherine did not find Miss Lucas sufficiently challenging."

Elizabeth just shook her head in wonder, no longer trying to make any sense of the world.

"That leaves us with the wedding. What are you thinking?"

Elizabeth sighed, and said, "As appealing as just getting a common license sounds, I do not think that would be the best way to establish ourselves in society, unless of course you plan on leaving me alone in the mistress chambers for a month to insure there is adequate time between the wedding and any _other _announcements."

Darcy choked and sputtered, but much to his credit as a sportsman, he did not actually faint at the idea.

"I think a moderate courtship sounds about right. Perhaps a month… six weeks?"

"Closer to the former than the latter, I should think. We have already been courting for half a year."

"Well, I suppose we must pick a venue."

Elizabeth frowned, and said, "While I would love to do it here, I do not think it would be quite the thing."

Darcy frowned slightly, and said, "Meryton then."

Elizabeth frowned along with him, and said, "It took all of Jane's patience, and my father, Lady Catherine and Anne together to keep my mother under control for her _favorite daughter._ Imagine what it would be like if her least-favorite daughter marries a man of considerably more consequence."

Darcy physically shuddered at the thought, but gamely continued, "So, three days journey is too far away, and Meryton is too close. I suppose you have worked out the exact optimum location and are cleverly waiting to surprise me with it."

Elizabeth laughed, and said, "I believe I have. It needs to be far enough to keep our sanity, but close enough and central enough to make it viable for those I wish to encourage to attend, assuming you will provide all the transportation necessary."

"Of course, so what is the optimum distance you have calculated."

Elizabeth smiled, and said, "Well, I suppose I will need to quote a wise old sage. _'And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day's journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance.'"_

Darcy laughed gaily, and said, "Well, you do have a sensible sister and a Parson in Kent, so I suppose Lady Catherine and Mrs. Collins will arrange everything to your satisfaction. Miss Catherine and Miss Lydia are already in residence, so all we need to do is go to Meryton, let your mother parade us around for a few days, then bring them to Kent just in time for the wedding."

Elizabeth was so enamored with the plan, she dragged him to a halt, and kissed him again, before taking his arm and dragging him back to the house. She was anxious to start planning her new life. This awkward phase had outlived its usefulness.

As they walked along, both happy and content, Elizabeth had a disquieting thought, which as usual did not percolate very long before it came out of her mouth.

She stopped him, and said, "Fitzwilliam, I have something I want to say."

He smiled at her, sensing no distress, and said, "I am all yours."

She smiled, and said, "Well, that is entirely the point. I now have no idea what all the fuss was about. I find that once I let go of my fears, and opened my heart, it all became clear. I do love you, with all my heart, right here, and right now, and I am so very happy. _I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh._"

Darcy laughed, and said, "Well then, _it is settled between us already, that we are to be the happiest couple in the world._"

"Yes, my love… yes we are."

~~~ FINIS ~~~

* * *

_A/N: There you go, Gang. That's story 26 in the can!_

_If you want some more geekout, here's some math for you._

_This story is 156,000 words, or about 27% longer than canon at 122k. It edges out The Cliffs of Hertfordshire at 152k as my longest works, although it's not a single story._

_I had about 5,000 paragraphs, which is about double canon, meaning on average, my paragraphs were much shorter than our Jane's. She averages 57 words per paragraph, while mine was 31. I was cheating though, since many of her longer and more descriptive paragraphs were skipped entirely, and I did not have to do any scene setting or character development._

_Some noted that there was a lot of talking, which is hardly surprising, but the actual quantity is interesting. 63% of the paragraphs in Canon have a quote, while I have 68%, so not as much of a difference as you might think on that score. However, about 40% of the text in canon is inside of quotes, while this story clocks in at a whopping 68%. This mostly means that I don't have that many speeches, but they tend to be longer. Of course, that's not all exact, mostly because I'm too lazy to work it out. For example, there were ~250 paragraphs devoted just to charts and graphs. All in all though, more wordy than canon, but of course, Canon Elizabeth wasn't on the spectrum._

_Depending on how you look at it, this is three stories in one._

_* The original one-shot is about 3,500 words, which is about my 8th shortest story._

_* The Short version is about 13,000 words, making it kind of mid-length. It's about the same length as The Propriety Fiction. My shortest story (Dawn at Netherfield) only has 886 words._

_* The long version would technically omit the short version, so instead of the 156k for everything you have read if you made it this far, it would be 146,000. This would make the long version my second longest story, just below TCoH._

_* As of now (2020-06-08), this has the most reviews of any of my stories, at around 1,700. It's spread across 54 chapters, so about 30 reviews per chapter. That's about typical for my longer stories. A pure division is a bit unfair, as quite a few people only review the entire story. This means short stories will have more per chapter, and that bears out. Most of my one-shots get 50-100 per story. All in all, I'd say the response is much better than I expected, so thank you all for all the lovely reviews._

* * *

_Lastly, I'll say that this story has surprised me more than any other I can remember. I will admit that when I wrote the one‑shot, I expected it to get a dozen hits and disappear into the ether. It's predecessor, Netherfield Math has quite a lot of hits over the last few years, but only 82 reviews. I suspected I'd tapped out the math market, but apparently not._

_The number of Views per chapter did taper off after about chapter 25, so there was a pretty big cohort of people that just thought it was too long. On the other hand, those that stuck it through seemed to like all the extra side-stories I added. Up to about chapter 25, I had about the same number of views I typically get, but the last few chapters have about half as many. Of course, we won't know for some time if they come back. There was a pretty big stretch when COVID first started when there were long delays between chapters, and that tends to drop readers. Perhaps, once it's complete, they will all come back. I guess we shall see. I'll watch the numbers and update on my twitter feed when I see what happens._

_And finally, let me just say Thank You to everyone who read, reviewed and/or enjoyed the story. These are exciting and perilous times. COVID is still a very dangerous virus that is nowhere near done with the world. At least 400,000 deaths worldwide (most likely many more), and well over 120,000 just here in the US. The BLM protests we're seeing in the US and around the world feel like a major turning point in history. I can only hope so_

_._

_That's it for me here in Seattle for the day. Now back to your regularly scheduled program._

_Be Safe!_

_Wade  
JaffWadeH (JAFF Only)  
WadeHatler (highly political)_


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